Cornerstone

Thought I would share another excerpt from "Kellie and Bailey's Most Excellent Adventure"...as we were enjoying our early morning ocean drive, I decided to slip down this little road that I had discovered before called "The Lighthouse Road."  There are some beautiful stone carvings there and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to photograph them again.

The morning light was perfect, and time disappeared as I snapped away on a beautiful summer morning.  After a while I noticed an older gentleman walking down the road, and as he neared us he said with a look of surprise, "I don't usually see people down here this early in the morning."  Bailey greeted him enthusiastically and we chatted away until after a while I discovered that HE was the artist that had created all of these things.  He asked me if I would like to come into his studio (Cornerstone) and take a look around (would I???!!)

I felt like I was on sensory overload as I looked around Bill's studio, and I tried to take in every item that I was looking at, because everything was unique and a natural work of art.  He said that he combs the beaches all around Nova Scotia and Cape Breton in the winter and turns his finds into these works of art outside of his studio in the summer.  (He works with diamond drill bits and water, so he said it's an outside job.)  He had gorgeous lamps whose bases were made out of smooth beach stones, on which he would sand blast designs.  His studio had an upstairs and Bill kindly offered to watch Bailey while I went upstairs for a look around.  When I came down Bailey was sitting quietly beside him (I wish I had gotten a picture of that!)

(This one came home with me!)

I was amazed at the variety and creativity of his work, and I asked Bill how he came up with so many different ideas and uses for the items he finds, and he said, "I lay awake and think about it at night."  He said that when he retired he began to devote his time to creating these works of art, and he started to sell "a little here and a little there", until now there are shops that carry his works all throughout Nova Scotia and down the  Eastern U.S. seaboard.  They certainly know a good thing when they see it.

We walked back outside and I admired the landscaping he had done and remarked that his work just melted into the terrain, as if it had been there forever.  I especially enjoyed the "tulips" that he had planted:

And noted that he liked to celebrate Christmas in July:

I found Bill fascinating to talk to, and could have spent much more time admiring the work that he had done and hearing about his secret beach locations where he sourced his stones from, but eventually I thanked him for his time and told him what a pleasure it was to meet him.  I told him that Bailey and I would no doubt be back down his way again (although maybe not that early in the morning!)  I asked Bill if he would let me take his picture, but he politely declined.  He said he wanted to let his work speak for itself.  It most certainly does...

Something To Think About

I want to share a picture with you of my dear, sweet Gracie that was sent to me when I rescued her.  I've always found it painful to look at this picture, and so have not looked at it often over the four years since she came into my life.

If you are thinking about getting a dog, why not consider adopting one.  You have the opportunity of taking a dog who looks like this...

and changing their life so that they look like this...

When I look back at that first photo that I saw of my Gracie I can hardly believe it is the same dog.  She went from a sad, fearful little dog, to an enthusiastic little imp who was a constant delight to me with her quirky little personality.  I have never been loved by anyone or anything as much as I was loved by my sweet little Gracie.  She will never leave my heart.

Springtime On The Farm

Took lots of photos on the long weekend of May (18-21st) at the family's farm in Springfield, NB.

Gracie, my smiling girl in the dandelions! 

NOTE: This would be her last time running free in the fields at the farm, she left this world a week later (May26).  Her little heart gave out on her as we were getting ready to go for our morning walk she passed away in my arms very shortly afterwards.  She now rests easy in the fields she loved to roam. I had no way of knowing that this would be the last picture I would take of my sweet little Gracie.

She came into my life almost four years ago to the day, and she stole my heart completely from the moment I laid eyes on her. She was the sweetest, most affectionate dog I have ever known, and Bailey and I miss her desperately. Bailey has not been the same dog since it happened, and that breaks my heart more than anything. I hope that she will come around or we may have to get another puppy dog sooner rather than later.

Because I rescued Gracie we were never really sure of her exact age, but I always prayed that I would be able to give her as many good years as she had bad ones starting out. I think we just about made it.

 Bailey sitting in the dandelions watching the birds fly by...

I never tire of the view from my Mom's kitchen window at the farm... 

This old fence has been around for a long time, echoes of what use to be

Rest in peace my sweet girl, you loved me well and I adored you in return, you filled my heart with your gentle presence. 

Timeless Treasures

It's funny how you grow up with things, looking at them day after day, and never really notice them at all. The wooden silverware chest sat on top of the china cabinet for all of my growing up years, opened only on those rare occasions, like when "special" company came, and of course, Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving. The "fruit" bowl was a permanent fixture on top of the silverware chest as well, containing over the years a varying assortment of ephemera; important papers, report cards, pill bottles, spools of thread and yarn. The knitting needles were a constant as well, especially in the winter, when they were likely to be attached to the latest pair of mittens, socks or a hat that was being created. "Make sure you don't pull the needles out!" was a common refrain around our household.

Not once as a child do I ever remember stopping to look at the colour or the grain of the wood in that cabinet or that chest, and the bowl was just a glass bowl with pictures of fruit on it, filled always with something that overshadowed the delicate colours and artistry. Never did I consider the hardy, handcrafted array of accessories that I wore as anything to be cherished for its artisanship and quality that is coveted by many today.

I grew up surrounded by simple treasures, and in time my eyes were opened to their beauty and value, proving just how timeless they really are.

Winter Time Walks

The girls and I have been enjoying our walks this winter, at least when it's not biting cold!  Little Gracie has her limits on those days, she will go so far and then that's it, she points her nose towards home and won't budge, not that I give her much trouble about heading back to where it's warm!

Gracie 

Bailey

I try to take some photos as we go, never know what we will see.  A little winter time snack!

Can you imagine the speed you would get on skates and a parasail!

And of course my heart is never far away from the family farm and home.  Lots more photos and updates on my facebook page, be sure to drop by for a visit!

Tall Ships Parade of Sail

I was able for the first time to attend the Parade of Sail by the Tall Ships this summer - here are a few of my favourite shots:

I'm not sure if these soldiers are part of the Parade of Sail each time, or if they were part of the commemoration of the War of 1812 that is being celebrated this year.  As the ships would go by they would fire off their cannons at the shore and these soldiers would fire back at them.  The sound was deafening, and gave me a new appreciation for what it must have really been like for those who really did participate in battles on ships:

Abstracts In Nature

I decided I would take the dogs out early for a walk on Saturday morning, before it got too warm.  Unfortunately it was MUCH warmer than I had anticipated, which eventually resulted in a migraine...but I digress.  My sister Brenda, who is an abstract artist, has been asking me to send her some of my more abstract pictures so she can get a few ideas for her work (not that she needs them,) so anyway, Bem, here's a few "abstracts" that I took before the heat got to me!

Oh, and is this one abstract enough for you - I think most people would call it out of focus, but you artists can rescue anything!

What You Think May Be Mint

I'm going to tell on myself. I realize that I may be risking my gardening reputation entirely, but I'm going to tell the story anyway.  As you know, I lost my job in the Spring, and in an attempt to bring in a few dollars, I took on a few gardening jobs, helping people to prepare their flower beds for the summer.  I was cleaning out flower beds for this one particular lady who had mint plants coming up everywhere.  Anyone who has ever grown mint knows how easily and quickly it will spread.  They had jumped outside of the flower beds and were coming up in various places around her lawn, so I decided that I would bring home the ones that I pulled out of her lawn and plant them in my own little flower bed.

I carefully transplanted them into my flower bed and started to water them daily.  I was encouraged as I watched them take root and begin to grow taller every day.  Towards the end of the summer I noticed that they were beginning to sprout small yellow buds on the top, and I thought to myself, "I don't remember mint having yellow buds on it," but I didn't pay  much attention to it.  Until one day I looked around the back yard and I realized that the "mint" plants I had growing in my flower bed looked exactly like the weeds that were growing freely all around the yard...

The funny thing is that at various times over the summer I would break off a leaf and smell it and think, "Hmmm doesn't smell very minty."  So the moral of this story is:  Be careful what you bring home from someone else's garden - what you thought was mint may turn out to be just weeds.

Enter The Flow

O My child, My child, I love you.  I need you.  I need you because I love you.  I call you through the trees.  In the soughing of the pines, it is My voice speaking.  I call you in the wind. In the breaking of the waves, it is My voice you hear.  In the tumbling waters of the brook, it is I, calling, ever calling.

Go from your house with an open ear.  Do not walk in a garden with an inattentive soul.  Do not pluck a flower without feeling your heart throb.

Learning, knowing, working, these all have their place.  But these are not the core of life, for living at its centre is loving; anything else is not life.  Work becomes the fabric from which we weave life only when love holds the threads.  Knowledge enriches life to the degree that love controls the thinking.  Pleasure becomes the path to the far country if true love has been left behind in pursuit of false values.

Learn to love Me and to love Me well.  Let the voice within you answer the voice without.  Be at one with the trees, with the waves, with the flowing brook.  

Grow upward, as trees, and seek My face.  Dwell deep, as the lake, and know My fullness and quiet.  And move ever, always, determinedly onward as the brook does; and keep the outflow of your life ever in motion.

For in My speaking, you will gain insight.  In My stillness, you will gain poise; and joining with Me in the flow, you will experience the progressive life.  Yes, only as life is progressive is it life at all.  Movement indicates life.  Movement safeguards life.  Movement promulgates life.  Movement gives purpose to life - yes, beauty.

It is the flowing lines of the sculptor's work that spell success.  It is the flowing movement of the musical score that transforms mere notes to true song.  It is the ministries of mother to child, either physical or spiritual, that contribute to the formation of the new personality and character.  

It is love being and love doing.  Yes, it is love loving.  Otherwise love is concept, not reality.  It is the believer worshiping - otherwise it is empty religion, with all spiritual creativity lost, and if not found in time, destroyed.

So the trees would say to you, Speak.  Speak to Me, speak of Me - for I am always speaking.  And the lake would say to you, Be still.  Be still before Me in communion, and be still at times even in the company of others, so you may enjoy the lesson of the lake in mutual fellowship.

And Move.  Find the channel of creativity within your soul.  I have made no one without it.  Some have choked it with indifference; others have despised it in rebellion; others have ignored it in foolishness; others have twisted it in bitterness.  But I stand ready to come to the assistance of any man or woman who sincerely endeavors to find this channel, to remove debris, to repair damage or straighten the course, and most of all to enter the flow.

By

Frances J. Roberts

From

Come Away My Beloved

Road Maps

I wanted to share one of the comments that I received from Kel xfacta.blogspot.com on my previous post "Scavenger Hunting."  I felt as if God spoke directly to me when I read what she wrote:


     "Road maps are great aren't they, showing the end destination, so we know exactly where we'll end up as we take each turn on the road.  When I saw these photos, this popped into my head, "follow the sound of the waves..."
     Isn't it true that when one sense is taken away from us, we gain extra strength in our others?   You may not be able to see the end of the beach, but if you follow the sound of the waves swooshing on the shoreline you will eventually reach the end of the stony section of your path."


I happened to glance through an old Artful Blogging magazine yesterday and I read these words by Kelly Letky (interesting that we all have the same name)  www.thebluemuse.com

     "It's hard to know if you are on the right path, moving in the right direction, doing the right thing.  I move in circles a lot, pondering this question, wondering.  Of course, there is no answer, you can't know the answer until you get where you are going, and then it is too late to ask the question.
     Along the way we make a million choices, each one a pebble in our path, some round and pretty, some jagged, sharp, occasionally painful.  But each one is ours, we claim them with every step we take, whether on tiptoes with trepidation, or running full steam ahead, hair streaming out behind us.  Choices, always, choices.  This or that, there or there, today or tomorrow.
     Nobody has a map of life.  No one knows exactly where they will end up.  But along the way, don't forget to watch where you are doing.  You might just see the most beautiful thing."

I think I'm getting a message here.  And I think I'd better listen...