Sitting Pretty Without Us

WOBBLY but with elegant touches intact, the tattered old chair on the road seemed to suggest that I pause and digest what all those traffic fumes have been saying. Humankind is as capable of extinction as any creature and polluting ways need to end if we hope to survive. Sustainability on Earth is rapidly fraying but flowers still bloom and the sun rises and sets so we choose to forget that the human story might not last and we could run out of time. Sometimes I wonder ... what would the world be like free of our kind.

Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report.

For more West Coast scenes see my latest photographic journal and online scribbler at UNDER MY UMBRELLA AND BEYOND.

The True Heart Holds The Key

"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart." - Helen Keller

Pictured left is the soon to be erased door-latch of the First United Church building in White Rock that is scheduled to be demolished.

I am grateful that a simple photograph can preserve the disappearing past.

For more West Coast scenes stay awhile and explore earlier posts.

To see fresh perspectives or to leave a comment, link to my new photographic journal and online scribbler at UNDER MY UMBRELLA AND BEYOND.

Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report.

Come Into My Web

"Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect." Chief Seattle

STICKY STRINGS, barely visible, seem harmless to use as a bridge but can land a bug onto a hungry spider's dinner table. Nature's crocheted webs and catching-nets are everywhere this fall.

Webs cling to the misty air, dangle from mailboxes and fence posts and attach to homes and hairdos, doing their part to decorate the Halloween season.

For more West Coast scenes stay awhile and explore past posts. To see fresh perspectives or to leave a comment, link to my latest photographic journal and online scribbler at UNDER MY UMBRELLA AND BEYOND.

Starry-Eyed Over Soggy End To Dry Summer

"Designers want me to dress like Spring, in billowing things. I don't feel like Spring. I feel like a warm red Autumn." Marilyn Monroe

A blown leaf hit the soggy ground. The rain gave it a special glow ... as if it were a discarded garment that could have draped the shoulders of someone bathed in starlight.

The leaf twigged a memory that Marilyn Monroe and I do have one thing in common.

I have no fashion designers and I'm no icon in films but I, too, feel like a "warm red" and am drawn to deep hues and soulful moods of decaying beauty in autumn.

For more West Coast scenes and fresh perspectives, link to my new scribbler and ongoing photographic journal at UNDER MY UMBRELLA AND BEYOND.

Super Wonderful Canada From Coast To Coast

"Canada is like a bird, it likes to soar freely." - Unknown

Visit my latest photographic journal at UNDER MY UMBRELLA AND BEYOND.

It's a work in progress!

Sandy Trails For Healthy Hearts

Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world. For, indeed, that's all who ever have. Margaret Mead

Some caring person put up a handmade sign at the bottom of a trail I often trek through in Crescent Beach.

Although you can't tell by the photo (above), the trail is steep and gets me puffing, which probably means the climb is good for the heart.

I was in my twenties when mom died suddenly after a heart attack. Decades later I'm still not over the shock. Because there are many wonderful paths near my area and to increase my chances of a longer life, I challenge myself when I walk. At the bottom of the hill there's car traffic and a busy railway track.

There's beach access where folks go to refresh, build sandcastles and more.

Mother's Day is upon us. I wondered if the stack of rocks (below) represent mother and child. The big one could be the parent and the smaller one the child, although as we get older it can become the other way around.

Parents tend to shrink over time but mothering instincts never do for women or men who take positive steps big and small. Helpful deeds, like useful signage and walking, can save a life so Happy Mother's Day to whoever added the cautionary note to the back of their artistic Sandy Trail sign.

This post is linked to signs, signs.

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Laughter's The Best Prescription & It's Free

The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter. - Mark Twain

A NOTE taped to the front door made me laugh when I came home from shopping and realized I'd forgotten my keys. My husband wrote it. He hasn't lost his wit despite dealing with health issues. Life is unpredictable ... of that we can be sure. We count on the sun coming up every morning but the day can hold surprises and not all of them are nice. Life can rob us of many things but hopefully not our humour. It's no joke that a tickled funny bone can see us through. The smiling Buddha (below) sitting in a garden and the note got me thinking about infectious giggles and big belly laughs.

Even the stuck kite (below) seemed comical later during my walk.

These spring flowers (below) seemed to be in on a joke of their own. It's as if the buds were saying, "See ... we fooled you ... you thought we were gone but here we are again ... uncrinkled and good as new."

This post is linked to signs, signs.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Tethered To A Cloud

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:18

I ONCE WAS A bud so new there was nothing of "me" to contemplate. Although I couldn't put my earliest moments into words, they're stored in my memories somehow. Perhaps I was still tethered to the "unseen" as an infant, an intangible place beyond the realm of ticking clocks. This eternal place, as impossible to grasp as a cloud, came up at the funeral of former first lady Barbara Bush who lived a full and generous life. Sights and sounds, hot and cold, kindness and meanness were rudimentary senses in the first weeks of her life as they are for us all. Now, after ninety-two years, she is beyond such concerns. While she rests in peace, her positive influence will remain and grow like a flower in the "seen" world of circling seasons.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Clean Meat Clear Conscience

If slaughterhouses had glass walls, everyone would be vegetarian. Linda and Paul McCartney

Something called “clean meat" came to my attention recently. It has me excited about a better future for farm animals living under harsh conditions and slaughtered on mass for human consumption. As someone who throughout the years has had minor success but mostly failures eating vegetarian meals exclusively, I’m heartened and in awe of this development. This radical new approach uses the cells of animals, without killing or harming them, to grow the meaty fibers separately in a lab. I can easily imagine this concept broadening to eventually grow human body parts for those in medical need. All we would need is a seed (the cell in this case) and the right nurturing brew to produce a chicken breast or a human kidney. It all sounds weirdly Frankensteinian, doesn't it? But it also sounds doable and wonderfully life sustaining and even healing should it come to pass. If the ornament pictured on my kitchen counter could applaud the idea it surely would. You can learn about the process HERE and HERE.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

It's A Non-refundable World

Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads. Henry David Thoreau

EARTH DAY is coming and I’ve been thinking about the billions-of-years-old blue marble we call home. It’s clear that in this current wink of time humankind is the biggest biological threat to all life on the planet. Ravaging resources and hooked on cheaply made products, polluting chemicals, fast fashions and throwaway plastics, it’s a disposable mentality in a non-refundable world. We are literally choking on our own over-consumption, compromising the very air and water that make existence possible. If we keep it up, sooner rather than later, Earth could be as barren and oxygen deprived as the moon or Mars. A serious mind-shift needs to happen where there is value in having less and treasuring more of what we already have. Are we up for the task? Can we reverse damage done? I wonder as I go for my walks and catalog the fragile beauty. Some say those who concern themselves with such matters are Chicken Little crying, “The sky is falling.” I say hat’s off to the environmentalists/scientists and common folk who pursue ways to turn things around. Even if a reusable bag at the grocery store seems like spit on a battleship … a whole lot of similar small steps can result in a heap of difference and extend this magical moment in time.

I heart this planet is what the (above) art at the bottom of 1001 Steps in Ocean Park seems to say. Traces of humanity are everywhere.

On bright breezy days kites share the sky with the birds.

Several little known stairways lead to the beach in the South Surrey area.

The stairs over the train track at the end of 24th Avenue are covered in mesh.

Couples attach padlocks there to insure their relationships, perhaps imagining they're in Paris where there are so many love-locks attached to bridges that they're banned now in some places.

Mysterious pools form at low tide. They come and go without making a splash.

When the sun peeks through the clouds the ocean sparkles like fairy dust.

Shells are collected off the beach floor. Some creatures leave their homes unwittingly while others dig in. Some never leave, yet willingly make their homes uninhabitable, even when it's the only home they've got.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Flowers In Winter

"Where flowers bloom so does hope." - Lady Bird Johnson

"Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts," said Sigmund Freud. Although that is likely correct, they inspire emotions. The cut and painted flowers brought the hope of spring and warmth to a home I visited recently. Meanwhile, icicle flowers (above) were quietly forming, as they often do in February outside my own home, reminding me it's still chilly. Expecting snow to knock at my door at any moment, I was instead surprised when a bountiful hand-delivered bouquet of flowers came calling.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Time's Up, Women's March, Vancouver 2018

IT WAS cold and raining off and on during the second Women's March in Vancouver, Canada, post the 2017 US election. My friend and I eagerly joined the throng at Jack Poole Plaza where people were gathering. There were impactful speeches that went on for some time prior to the March.

Two hours in the wet and cold for people of all ages, including children and the elderly, was a bit much so many left before the March actually started. Nonetheless, there were plenty remaining and ready to stroll. Thousands of us took to the streets holding signs and chanting slogans like Time's Up.

Umbrellas abounded. Most marchers had a camera in hand to record the event.

Some signage could be seen on windows of buildings where we walked.

The mood was friendly and the atmosphere peaceful.

There were some boos .....

when we reached the downtown building people love to hate.

Mostly there was a feeling that the world needs more dignity and love for all.

A powerful poem was written and read at the rally earlier by teenager Noor Fadel. Harrassed on a Skytrain in Vancouver last December, she was grateful that one person came to her aide at the time. Her poem is called I Forgive You.

To me the March felt a touch more somber and I thought there was a greater sense of urgency in the air this year. You can check out last year's March HERE.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

A Painterly Eye On The Wall

WHIMSY is to the imagination what an irrepressible giggle is to the soul. Whimsical, or any, interesting art on the wall gives us something to ponder on days when the landscape is a blank canvas of gray or when it's too damp and cold outdoors to feast on Mother Nature's beauty. Recently I visited a local library where I found work by IRENA SHKLOVER displayed. With her permission I've posted segments of those pieces.

Irena is a prolific artist. My photos, and the camera's flash, didn't do her work justice but I like the snap (above) of patterns I captured that, to me, look like floating wildflowers.

Irena's painting of a man holding a balloon (above) as he flies over a mythical city makes my heart soar. Her painting (below) of someone standing in the rain alongside a cat that perhaps is trying to get some benefit from the umbrella ... well, I can easily imagine that person is me walking in the wet wonderland that is so typical of wintry weather in southwest BC.

Below is a different style of painting by an unknown artist. It's not whimsical but the melancholy landscape brings out the whimsy in me. My parents, who since passed away, included art work in their luggage when they traveled by ship from Europe to Canada decades ago. The painter of the piece was their friend, his name inconveniently buried beneath the frame.

That was so very long ago. Perhaps he never knew the power of his work. Artists bravely cast their passions to the wind like fairy dust, not knowing who, if anyone, will be touched by their creations.

The painting (above) on my wall at home is by an artist who signed her work only with one name. Lenore was a White Rock artist who passed away several years ago. She left an indelible impression on me and the community that she memorialized with paints and brushes and her painterly eye ... she examined life thoughtfully and creatively the way artists have done throughout time.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms