Wishes For Bridges Each Step Of Your Way

Love is the bridge between you and everything. Rumi

It was hot that day with a cooling breeze as we walked adjacent to the busy car traffic.

Crossing over the Granville Street Bridge in Vancouver, my daughter and I had a bird's eye view (pictured left) of the Granville Island Public Market and the bright canary yellow restaurant there.

What better name for the restaurant than Bridges?

There are three bridge crossings in close proximity over False Creek, connecting downtown Vancouver to outlying areas. Across the way, we spied the Burrard Street Bridge built in the 1930's. Its Art Deco influence was visible from afar. Cambie Street Bridge (not pictured) also spans this inlet at the heart of the city.

A bridge can be any transitional device ... a thread, a complex web of communication from one to another or a simple log placed fortuitously over a tricky situation as my daughter's painting of Penelope (below) shows. 

There are imaginary, real and unchallenged obstacles as we press forward in life so I'll quote Penelope Puddle who would say without hesitation to all who cross from here to there: "Wishes for bridges each step of your way."

View more West Coast scenes at my latest photographic journal UNDER MY UMBRELLA and visit POSTCARDS FROM PENELOPE PUDDLE.

Postscript: This post was originally published in May of 2018

Penelope's "Wishes For Bridges" painting updated, July, 2025

Umbrella With Best Journey Yet To Unfold

“My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive ..." - Maya Angelou

A SCRUFFY umbrella in the corner by a doorway rested like a tousled survivor recovering from a blustery windstorm. It proved stronger than expected but less transparent than before the storm ... its best journey yet to unfold.

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

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.

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.

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.

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view more BC scenes.

See OUR WORLD to explore sights from around the globe.

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.

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view more BC scenes.

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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.

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view more BC scenes.

See OUR WORLD to explore sights from around the globe.

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Second Generation Trudeaumania

RAIN POURED down relentlessly as people who came to see Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and Gordon Hogg at a high school stood patiently under their umbrellas. A stream of people had been forming since early morning. When the doors opened, I, as well as hundreds of others, squeezed inside the building to find security checks and a place to put our soggy umbrellas. I imagine it was a bit hard to let go of some cuter umbrellas but those were the rules.

The event in the South-Surrey-White Rock riding was billed as a meet and greet and discussion about good middle class jobs and how to create them. In reality, it was a chance to make everyone aware of an important by-election on December 11th and a rare chance to turn the traditionally conservative area liberal. This was thanks to a trusted local candidate, Hogg, who for years was Member of the Legislative Assembly for the conservative leaning BC Liberal Party. Now he was throwing his hat in the ring for Justin.

Honestly, no one cared about labels just then. Emotions were building with the size of the crowd. People from all racial backgrounds, walks of life, physical abilities and challenges, beliefs, ages, big, small, short and tall figuratively stood shoulder-to-shoulder, cameras ready and hopeful Justin would walk by. Someone brought an old poster of Justin's father, Pierre Trudeau, Canada's Prime Minister from 1968 to 1979 and from 1980 to 1984. He also drew a crowd.

When the speeches were over and Justin walked past, I felt suddenly crushed by the people around me. The air was sucked out of the room for a few seconds and my camera rendered useless.

If only I were taller. All I got was a peek. People seemed overwhelmed as Justin got closer and I wondered how a man, who once hoped someone/anyone would show up at his political events, became such a crowd magnet.

Somewhere along the way, Justin became a star.

I think it’s the disheartening times we live in that has drawn people to this attractive man who speaks of unity, elevating all cultures and working together to create a better county, indeed world, for all. People are desperate for a leader with this rare mix of charisma and kindness. But not everyone was impressed.

I smiled at a single sign of displeasure upon leaving the event. Not everyone was enamored with Justin or his Liberal Party policies. But you’ve got to love the freedom this man represented and his right to express his discontent.

At this writing, I’m curious to see what this election will bring. Will the community turn liberal after being a conservative strong hold? They used to say a raccoon running for the conservative party would win in this riding … but now … time will tell.

Postscript Updated Dec. 14, 2017: For the first time in several decades, the Liberal Party of Canada won the South-Surrey-White Rock riding with help from a popular local candidate, Gordon Hogg, who was a mere 1,617 votes ahead of Kerry-Lynne Findlay who led the Conservative Party that until now had been entrenched in the community.

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view more BC scenes.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Autumn Creeping

"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." George Eliot

MOTHER NATURE is sweeping away summer and like Eliot I'm loving it. Petals are scrambling, leaves are drooping, crumbling, swirling in gusts of wind, sliding down slippery wet roads into sewers never to be seen again.

The Virginia Creeper is the first vine to transform and has the brightest blush.

A plant called burning bush is stiff competition when it comes to colour.

Bedding plants such as winter pansies, marked by butterfly wings, are replacing summer blooms.

Warm browns are softening daisies past their prime.

Stunning shades of orange are beginning to cover the ground.

Pumpkins have crept onto our doorsteps and now appear everywhere.

It's an opportunity to get creative painting or carving.

Most pumpkins are orange but this ghostly white one (below) is truly a star.

Current fires in California make it all too easy to imagine life if there were no rain seeping through the veins of a parched earth after an overly hot summer. But would I love a forever-autumn and follow it around the globe like Eliot ... not likely. I'm glad southwest BC experiences all seasons to a moderate degree, although even here weather seems more extreme nowadays.

Greenery can still be found along sandy trails ... rainfall is just beginning. Earth's tilt and rotation as it circles the sun and its location to the sun are the reasons for the seasons. As a wonderstruck resident of a precisely balanced spinning top I can only hope such remarkable synchronicity never stops.

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view more BC scenes.

See OUR WORLD to explore sights from around the globe.

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms