If you live near a cemetery, go there!

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You’ll see stuff like this because people plant beautiful trees and shrubs to keep their loved ones company.  I went yesterday to see that was happening to a rose bush I had planted on my mother’s grave.  Alas, the harsh winter had finished it off.  I planted another one, a white one and since I addedd a judicious amount of fertilizer this time perhaps it will survive.  I was amazed and uplifted by the beautiful flowering trees just at their best.  In some places I could not see the sky for the lovely crab apple, lilac and apple trees in bloom.  Of course the birds were having a field day and the air was cool and fragrant.  I can never understand why people find graveyards off-putting and why they avoid them.  The stones are interesting to read and the surroundings are usually beautiful .  Lots of animals live on Mount Royal where our biggest cemetery is. I sincerely hope the hole below is the home of a ground hog.  I am suppressing my overactive Immagination and sticking with the groundhog theory.  Happy to say this is not my mother’s grave as I would be at a loss to know what to do about it.

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Hope is a hard taskmaster

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Or or perhaps I should say task mistress.  There is something feminine about this business of constantly returning to see if life can triumph over death, love over callous indifference.  No it is not acceptable to keep on inviting, to keep on approaching something or someone who offers no encouragement.  Why keep on submitting those poems.  How laughable.  Have you ever had one published?  Why keep suggesting meetings, lunches, outings?  Had she ever shown the slightest interest?  Why keep on applying for jobs you never get or practicing the violin?  How many times can you play ” twinkle twinkle”?  Many, many times it would appear.  Like an annoying cat that keeps on sidling up in spite of your allergies, or like this little leaf emerging late from what looked like a dead branch, sometimes hope gives us a little surprise.  Random rewards the psychologists call them.  The most effective way of making one keep up these silly and hopeless hopeful things.  This much for today

Pink Lilac

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Everything is  early this year.  Here comes the pink lilac.  Remember when we were supposed to wait until Victoria Day ( oh, sorry, a British Queen shouldn’t be mentioned ) I mean Dollard Day ( oops, he turned out to be a rogue and we mustn’t talk about him) so let’s say May Bank Holiday ( banks !! More bad ones). So, the old idea was that 24 May was the earliest one could plant spring flowers.  Now everything is early, everything is racing ahead.  My wonderful tulips lasted exactly one week.  Darwin was quite right,  ” Adapt or Perish” .  Nature is called upon to adapt to us now, though. Thunderstorms on May 10?  Well, it cooled us off and meant I don’t have to water the garden.  It filled the birdbath and made some birds happy.  Accept, don’t complain, find the joy in what comes.  Happy Mother’s Day to Mother Earth first and then to all the Mothers ( and Fathers standing quietly not quite knowing what is going on)   Love from the pink lilac.

Comparison

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it’s a very beautiful evening in Spring.  Everything alive was constrained for months by cold, darkness, fatigue.  Now, it’s hot and sunny for days on end and nature seems unleashed.  Flowers are blooming, leaves are coming out and people are walking around in shorts and sleeveless tops.  There’s a sort of benign hopefulness, an easygoing good nature that floats around. Most of the time.

I went to exercise class and to the National Library that is close to my Pilates Studio.  I noticed  really nice graffiti on the walls of buildings in the alley backing onto he library.  I took a few pictures.  I smirked to see a beautiful piece incorporating the names of many famous writers that ended up with a commercial sign for “danseuses nues”.  There, so much for your high falautin’ culture.  People will do what they want.  There were a lot of good pieces down the alleyway and I walked all the way down.  I was surprised to see a needle disposal box and wondered what went on in the  park adjoining the library.  The long distance bus terminal is across the street too.  A lot of desperate people come out of there.  It was a lovely day and I was in a good space.  I almost tripped over a young man sitting under a portrayal of children’s’ literature.  He hardly noticed.  He was ernestly seeking a good vein and tutting over some pretty nasty tracks on his arm.  I left quickly and went into the library to find my books, my films, my music.  I left that boy next to the big palace of culture, of civilization.  I left him without a word because I was afraid of him.  Truthfully, I think he would not have welcomed my interruption.  That is not the point, is it?  I’m sitting out in my quiet little back yard.  Flowers are out, birds are singing and nesting.  I have plenty to read  and to listen to.  I have plenty to write.  I am a little disturbed by my neighbors who never stop ” improving” the adjoining yard, but there is no accounting for taste.  I like my little bucolic wilderness.  They like little Las Vagas.  We all have our peace and quiet here in our ordinary neighborhood.  But that boy under the mural?  What is he doing tonight.?  Did he find a good vein?  Did he throw his needle I. The box ” reserved for that purpose”?  Is his soul quiet tonight?  Is mine?

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Montreal buildings

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These are two decorative panels I spotted in the McGill ghetto area. They are set into the wall on either side of the front door of a big old apartment house. I am sure hundreds of students have hurried in and out of that door running to class or to some party, football game or rendezvous. I love that this classical pair is still hanging around this modern university. Pretty sure the lady is Artemis the huntress but the gentleman is a bit of a mystery to me. Is it Odysseus? I wonder who made these lovely plaques and if there are any others in the city. Wonderful to see as I walk along the street.

New tenants

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Here is a picture of the evening moon over my little apple tree. Can you see the red and white. birdhouse in the apple tree? For the first time since it was put up two little birdsare making their nest there. Just two little sparrows who are bringing dry grass and twigs and mating quite shamelessly in the branches of the little tree that will soon be glowing in the evening light with pale blossoms. It seems to be my week for catching birdies “in flagrente”. They are very sweet and it is exciting to think I might have eggs hatching in the little birdhouse before too long.

The other picture is taken from the ferry from Sorel to the north shore of the St. Lawrence. I went out with a friend of mine to look for snow geese but since someone gave me very poor directions as to where they had been seen, it turned into something of a “wild goose chase” and only a few Canada geese were spotted. It is wonderful to see the river though. I like it very much and always think of old pioneers paddling down the great River wondering what fate awaited them.

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I really didn’t mean to look

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it was just a casual glance out of the kitchen window but to my bashful delight I caught a pair of cardinals mating.  The ecstatic moment took place on my newly repaired grape arbour…what an inauguration!  I could hardly believe my eyes and although it didn’t take very long( you’ll have to work on your technique, boyo) there was no mistaking what was going on.  Mlle soon flew off.  I do like her.  She is not so flashy and actually looks a bit sinister.  He stuck around to show off a little longer.  I took down some solar flashing lights in hopes of giving all the birds around here some darkness( read privacy) at night.  I saw a measly sparrow checking out my bird house yesterday.  I have never had a tenant even though it’s been up for at least 5 years.  Anyway, the neighborhood certainly is perking up.  Now if only……oh, never mind.