I’ve stopped thinking of you with fond appreciation
You’re a dragon with no fire
I don’t have time for
Less than stone
Sending my hope
Up with the birds
This quiet street
That empty seat
A minnow in a pond of loons
We hope for love but quit too soon
Burning my eternity of Scarlett letters
They drift into the night sky
plumes of goodbyes.
So what can I say? As a writer and photographer I was deeply saddened by the events in France this week – and at the same time – tremendously proud to see the gathering for peace that followed. The pen is mightier than the sword.
Here’s a few images from the past week.
The decorating of my 29th birthday cake
Pretty girl in her reflective vest
This is what -49C looks like
Smoked Atlantic salmon and linguini alfredo
Sorry Grace, still not getting in my bed
Repurposing old cans and jars for craft supply storage
When I was home this past Christmas my Aunt Lucy and I were rummaging through some old photographs. I came across this photo of me as a kid, my favorite photo of me actually. When I held it up to my Aunt to get her opinion on that day encapsulated in time, she said, “You were always the color of outdoors, Mandy.”
That line burrowed deep down in to my soul. It is likely the greatest compliment I could ever have received. Since I could stand on my own two feet I have felt most comfortable, most at peace – and at the same time – most wild, in the great outdoors. There is no place quite like Labrador to grow up in. You are constantly tested by the weather, by the realities of doing without even the basic necessities at times, by the rigid yet sweet nature of a human being. It is possible. We are as odd as our weather patterns.
I can’t think of a better name for this blog than that sentence that left my heart feeling so full.