a gift of the rose

 

I don't know about you, but I've never experienced a spring like this. Perhaps it's because I don't have my nose buried in work that I can stop to smell the roses...literally.

 

Here in Nova Scotia there are wild roses EVERYWHERE. I've never seen anything like it.

There are wild roses where one might only expect scrub and grasses and weeds. On this particular day we stopped on the road to the dump, in an industrial area, and crossed the ditch to find ourselves in a wall of roses.

 

In amongst the scotch pine was the most heavenly dense shrubbery of wild roses.

Budding, in full bloom, and completely over, they gave off their gentle scent.

 

I was surprised again to see the spiral transition of bud to full bloom.

Not really a  rose fan, I couldn't help but succumb to the romance of their raw beauty,

unenhanced by hybridization.

 

It was pretty amazing to see so many at once, growing in an area where they are taken for granted, like one more weed.

And then there were the white ones. Well, actually, they were palest pink.

 

I fell immediately in love...

How could these go unseen, just growing by their lonesome, with only each other to know their exquisite gloriousness?

 

This truly humbles me, the rapture of nature...

One begins to really appreciate what is meant by

"God is in the details"

 

Every little raindrop on every petal, every raindrop that clings to the Horsehair that weaves its story,

adds to the poetry for those with eyes to see, and a heart with which to feel

Buttercups and Horsehair and a few stray Forget-Me-Nots

 

The glory that is a 5 petalled Buttercup

 

St. John's Wort

 

New maple leaves start red and in the fall, may finish red

 

Little would you know that this magnificent setting is roadside

and not in a grand garden

 

 a peek at what I've been working on in my mermaid book

One of the startling lessons I've learned is that I can photocopy a drawing from my sketchbook, as I've done here, and through the magic of acrylic matte medium, I can not only glue it down, but also use it as a base for more embellishment with pencil crayon and acrylic paint. The outlines and curlicues in white are done with a Sharpie paint pen, one of the many new mediums I have been learning about, poster paint (or gouache) in a pen format.

 

and here is a rosebud for you

it holds the gift of Potential that lays inside us all.

Be patient for her gift only opens where there is warmth and light and nurturing.

That is all we need give ourselves in order for our bud to bloom.

Peace

 

 

petals unfurling

Another gray rainy day, as spring is supposed to be, for the plants just love the water, and are beautifully hydrated in this drenched atmosphere.

 

How exquisitely exotic is an iris

 

How spear-like is its bud

 

How rich the detail magnified by raindrops

a poem in mauve

 

Planet Dandelion

Queen Anne's Lace Reel

 

And in the studio, my mermaid shaped book is beginning to unfold its petals too

 

This is my first completed spread, an experiment in acrylic and collage,

the lettering done in paint pens

 

And how are your petals unfurling? I would love to hear what is new with you?



a late Sunday afternoon drive home

Yesterday I told you of our trip to Blomidon.

Blomidon is a derivation of the original "Blow Me Down"

 and as you can see the top of the mountain shows the hardened trees that have survived the high winds as we look South across the Bay of Fundy

 

 We are high enough that we appear to be almost level with this amazing Thundercloud

 

It is a steep slope as I watch Wally walk along the lower path. I'm afraid to think what's just beyond that rim of trees as the shoreline consists of such 90 degree cliffs.

 

The day was wearing on and so we only stopped for a short boo at the top of the park before heading back down the long winding road that takes us back to the valley.

 

 The day was a hot one, but as the sun sunk lower in the sky,

 a lovely haze lifted over this bucolic farm scene

 

We passed through broccoli country but because of the speed of the car, my pictures have become hazy along with the natural light, but I think that just adds to the romance of this time of day.

I do love a freshly ploughed field, probably already seeded but yet to show.

 



The quintessential Nova Scotia home, laundry on the line

 

Another old beauty enhanced by its many additions

 

Canning has some wonderful gingerbread classics, this one with its wraparound porch is so

winsome in the late afternoon light

 

a magical garden of lupins

 

Overgrown lilacs and honeysuckle et cetera barricade this old barn from the road

one of many beautiful garden vignette

Eventually we come to a main crossroad where this great old tree stands

 

and from there, it's a short drive home

not nearly so hot as when we left

 



Of course you can tell how much I am enjoying our new homeland.

The diversity and natural beauty capture the memory of my childhood in ways I didn't know still existed.  I feel my heart swell with gratitude, and hope there are things in your life that hold the same wonderment and beauty for you.



a surprise trip to Blomidon

 

Sunday was hot. It has certainly cooled off since then. But the heat was getting to us that day, so we went for a drive.

 

Soon we were nearing the coast, which isn't hard to do around here.

 This remarkable roadside home was worth a cruise-by.

 

Somehow we ended up on the road to Blomidon Provincial Park

 

lush farmfields open up the view to our destination

 

 

I suppose this is cape is considered the easternmost end of what they call the North Mountain that encompasses the Annapolis Valley. 

 

  Such a pretty drive in.

 

 As we come onto the beach we see it is at low tide.

 

 I wanted to put this shot in as a sepia, but had trouble for some reason. I just thought the people sitting in their chairs at this natural wonder had an Edwardian look about it.

 

 Playing volleyball on a beach isn't unusual except that within hours this area will all be under water.

 

I wasn't convinced that I could capture this shot of the little girl in her hot pink dress,

but Wally's imagination was caught and he took the camera to make this beautiful simple shot.

 Looking in the opposite direction we see the cliffs of sandstone.

 

 On and on they go

 

And behind us we leave a rushing creek that gushes into the sea

It rushes on over stone and sand as it finds its way over the long receding beach

 

To the right of it hangs a bower over lower sandstone cliffs

 

The river is slowed substantially as it finds its way to sea, feeding these lush sea plants that only exist here over the barren sand.

 

 And then, finally, the river finds the sea's edge, as we look out toward the Minas Basin

 

The ripples in the sand tell a story

So do this child's footprint that go in the same direction as the seagull's tracks

The happenstance of  "we seaweed three"

And a very odd footprint indeed

 

 This exquisite white crab waits for the sea to reclaim it

 

Two Mennonite women make their way to the water's edge

 

 A panorama of the fabulous Blomidon cliffs that rise up to 600 feet high

 and the fabulous long beach at  low tide.

And good-bye to the volleyball players

 

Wally couldn't have been happier.

 

Soon I will post the pictures from our drive home that was so quintessentially Nova Scotia that they are worth a posting of their own. Til then, be well, be happy, be grateful. There is beauty everywhere.