This Old Barn

There is something deeply nostalgic about old farm houses and barns.

From the moment you see their neglected lane-ways, now covered with wild grass and weeds with only a hint of the paths that lead the family home each day…to that next moment, as your eyes are drawn to the byres and ranches that have long since been forgotten.

That feeling of wistfulness for a place that I never knew….

I can imagine when this place was full of life….

Hard working families and children with chores, who have risen with the first sign of dawn to tend to their animals and fields of plenty. 

The family dog dutifully next to his master as he watches over his homestead, hands calloused, skin weathered and darkened through season after season, year after year of hardships and elation for the masterpiece of existence he has created.

I can imagine the home fires burning, smoke billowing out of stone hearth chimneys, dinner on the table as mama, the matriarch, calls her family home to her.

The laughter, telling of stories and adventures, everyone eager for their chance to share the happenings of their day, as the food that was harvested by the hands of the family is passed from one to another.

I can imagine as the children grew and began to pull from the roots that once grounded them, on to other quests, the draw of the city, the dream of something bigger or just different. 

Their aging parents slowly letting pieces of their homestead whither and age in time with themselves. The animals and fields either passed on or sold off, the homestead no longer a homestead.

The barns have aged, sun, rain and years of weather have transformed them into productions of art. Stunning reminders of what they once were.  Nature taking them back to the land  

This Old Barn

Thank you for reading

Live Love & Laugh

Catherine

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A Special Place I Call Home

A Special Place I Call Home

My special place, that I call home, for when I am there I feel more at home then anywhere.  I am far from family and friends, surrounded by strangers that do not seem strange or distant at all, but rather like long lost kin folk that I am sure my past spirits have known.

My special place that I call home where eagles soar in such abundance that I sit in awe and disbelief to be so blessed to live among them   Their calls to one another from tree top to tree top or the power of their wings as they fly at breakneck speed to pluck their prey from the sea.

My special place that I call home, watching shore birds do their rhythmic dance, sheets of white moving and flowing so in sync with one another, their reason for their frolic or the purpose to their moves I am not aware but I can imagine the timing of their dance with a symphony of music

My special place that I call home, staring out into the sea waiting for a glimpse of the mighty Orca,  but just as excited to see sea otters, seals and sea lions. I love the bark of the sea lion, sounding so grumpy as they roll along through the tides but having such silly grins on their faces.  as if they are amused at something only they can see.

My special place that I call home, following deer tracks as they show their path from bush to shoreline and back again. Perhaps they too like to watch the sunrise and sunset to reflect on their day as it ends and their morning as a new one begins.  

Waking and sleeping to the sounds of the waves, 

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from raging  pounding surf to calm lapping waters, the sounds lulling you to slumber but then rousing you with anticipation.

Every day, every moment something to see, to believe in, to remind me to live to breath to love to laugh.

My Special Place

Thank you for reading Live Love Laugh,

Catherine Deslippe

To be a wildflower?

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a wildflower?

The start of your new life so unencumbered, so free. To be relayed to destinations unknown by gusts of wind, that have first pulled you from your mother plant?

Winds that carry you along, asking for your trust as its transports you to the place where you will lay your first foundation,

The winds stop…. and your new struggles for live begin. 

Did you find yourself perched high on a mountain top where you know your challenges will be many?  Where your existence depends on finding a crack, an opening, your home to lay root?

Where the elements of nature leave you exposed and threatened with each passing day. Sun rays that beat down giving and taking life away. Where spring rains and summer storms threatened to pull you from your perch, but also where your beauty is by far the greatest of all,  shared only by those that are blessed with wings, that are fortunate to fly amongst you

 Did you find yourself tossed along a highway strewn with broken stones, pebbles and runabout weeds?  Where storms and rains can’t harm you, but where you stand alone. and must lean learn to live with the loneliness of barren highways. Hoping that hasty cars and walk about wild life, take a moment in their passing to pay you heed,  to reveal in your wild beauty and in your strength to stand alone

Or did you find yourself in the fields and countryside that your ancestors before you have spoken about, as you waited for your moment to live life. Where you are surrounded by others the same and some different, where rooting, soil, sun and rain, all make life as a wild flower seem easy in comparison. Where people travel for miles to find you, to take in all your beauty.

Yet it is here amongst so many that you struggle for uniqueness and wither away young because no challenges befell you. Nothing could make you as courageous as the roadside warrior or as strong as the  mountain top beauty. 

Have you ever wondered about the life of a wildflower? 

Thank you for reading Live Love Laugh

Catherine Deslippe

Thank you to photographer Lorraine Begin for providing photos

 

Snow in the City

Snow in the city…. It doesn’t happen often but when it does you need to grasp the moment

Looking out the windows I am flooded with memories of childhood and the wonders of snow.  The wide eye excitement of getting dressed and rushing outdoors, mothers calling in the distance be careful, wear your hats, be home before dark.

I was drawn to the outdoors this morning to relive parts of those memories and to create new ones reminiscent of this time in my life.

The city so still, grounded to a halt by snow. Cars and roads covered in a  thick  quilt of white and fast falling snowflakes, this morning was perfect

The city looks abandoned, as if some strange phenomenon has taken most the population and the few that you do meet are different,  they are happy, giddy and exuberant just by being in the snow. Shouts of good morning, happy holidays, Merry Christmas have replaced the angry or non-existent chatter of normal city life

The excitement of being the first to lay footprints on patches of new snow, as if we have claimed this land for the first time.  Making snow angles and snowman with Maggie jumping around laughing and smiling, the two of us being child-like again.

As the morning draws on and the skies get brighter our world looks a bit different, more people have emerged and the cars are starting to come to life.

Our moment of morning snow bliss has come to  end with new memories of this life, this day and reminders of the past we trudge home to tired from play and happy for the moments

Our city,  our snow, our story

Catherine & Maggie

 

Life Imitating Nature

Decisions on life cloud my mind today just as the clouds take over the sky. Lakes and streams overflowing, mirroring the depths of human emotion

The heavy rains slow to a misty overcast ,  hovering in the layer of fog, the silhouette of lone coyote, a reminder of self preservation.

The rains let up ,  the clouds open to allow a sliver of sun, symbolic of possibility. Before they close back in again and torrential storms settle in

My storms, my thoughts, my day

Catherine

Rain

In the still of the rain we found some peace today. A week of stress and uncertainly gave way to playing in puddles. The air so crisp,  fresh and quiet and the presence of people absolutely nil.

Just Maggie and Me forgetting all the woes of the week, walking in wonder through raindrops.

So cold,  the rain teetering on the edge of turning to ice, laughing and running with reckless abandonment.

Remembering that life just is, people are just people and letting go every now and then is a must

Our day, our rain, our story

Catherine

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Is it Haunted here?

Is it Haunted here?  It opened in 1904 and was revered at the time as the asylum for the mentally and criminally insane. As medicine and research evolved over the years the name and the direction of the Riverview institute transformed into hospital that specialized in mental health issues, until it closed in 2012  

Let me take you back to the 1900″s.  Imagine this place perched high on a mountain side. With trees of all species that have never been logged, that have been here since birth. Such history in the pristine and raw forest.  Such strong forces of energy still at play all these year’s later

 Now imagine, still standing but crumbling, some of the original buildings that housed some of the most mentally ill people that were cast out from society

Witchery and barbaric methods thousands upon thousands of misfitted people locked away behind bars longing to touch what only their eyes beheld them through their windows

As I walk amongst the buildings, windows still barred holding in the spirits that walked the halls. I imagine the hand prints on grimy moss covered windows and the echoes of their screams and laughter as they struggled in their existence

This place is magical but eerie and haunting…. hairs stand on end as you peak through an open window to halls of emptiness but beauty in the building remains

Then out of nowhere a crack of thunder so loud we jump with fright followed by hard rains that send us the message we have over stayed our welcome move on now let us rest in the peace that we had longed for

My spooky Halloween 

Catherine

 

 

A Perfume Called Fall

Two of the greatest smells of all.

When you combine the smell of decaying leaves after a rain storm and campfires burning you have a collision of fall scents that awaken every sense of your being.

Taking deep breaths to try to take in as much of the aroma as possible hoping that if I hold it in, the smells will stay deep within my soul.

Bottle this and call it fall for these two smells can calm the most erratic mind and elevate mood to the point of elation

How is it that two means of ending, wood burning down to ashes and leaves decaying into dust can create such an alive feeling?

 Strange what nature has to offer, leaves, fire and life …. a perfume called fall

My Story My Fall

 Catherine