Hope Is A Feather

AUTHOR Emily Dickinson showed sensitivity as a writer with such prose as: “Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all."

More than wishes and fairy tales, hope is the light in an unfathomable world. It darts away to suddenly reappear with a song or a flutter. Fearing the dimming of its glow some strive to contain it through metaphors and pictures ... a hopeless task but worth a try as I walk about with my camera.

A seed holds the hope of a flower.

Visitors hope for kind receptions and hosts hope for guests that are kind.

Parents hope for futures brighter than what they've known.

Hope rests at the cusp of every sharp turn and prickly situation.

It rests in the pet hoping for a friendly pat on the head.

There's an ocean of hope in every drop and puddle. And from hope's lofty perspective, every feather and pen holds the potential to somehow fly.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Rewinding

CURLING UP by a fence post is a fine way for a local raccoon to relax but for me unwinding means rewinding and untangling my thoughts with a walk in a world where unexpected bliss or misfortune lurks around any corner.

On good and bad newsdays it's reassuring to see that cozy cottages still reside beside big old trees in some places.

Babies still enjoy fresh air from their buggies near the grayish-blue sea.

Puppies like the Golden Retriever (below) still draw oohs and ahhs from adoring crowds and ...

mysterious paths still invite walkers to explore each twist of the pebbly sand.

On good and bad newsdays birds still sing and build nests in most places ...

and weeping willows, not yet green, still dance in the breeze.

Dreams still transform into reality with mortar and stone.

Smiles still greet each new day and there's plenty of joy to be found.

A leaky basket of woes also rolls around but as children's author Judy Blume once said, "Life goes on if you're one of the lucky ones."

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Hot In Alaska, Pt 2: Settling Into The Noordam, Melting In Juneau & What I Forgot

LAUNCHED in 2006, the Noordam is only 9-years-old yet already shows signs of being a faded beauty. The bust of Juliana, former Queen of the Neatherlands, and other decorative features add gravitas and character to the ship. But if one looks closely past the decore the rust and wrinkles are also there. Perhaps that is to be expected with some two-thousand tourists day-after-day traipsing through the lovely façade of what is considered to be a mid-sized ship.

As with any cruiseline, you are meant to feel like a star at Holland America.

I was charmed by this large brass and glass artifact dangling over the spiral staircase to the ship's office. Is this a nucleus orbited by electrons or an artistic impression of a mariner's imagined constellation? Nautical themes, of course, could be seen throughout the Noordam.

This was my first cruise so I explored the ship with interest and imagined being as happy as a clam in chairs designed for mermaids, queens and emperors. An ancient throne replica (below) overlooked the pool.

There were nooks and crannies where one could read quietly or gaze at the scenery away from the crowds. I could feel royal yet comfy in the chair below.

People once roughed the seas in vulnerable vessels, including my parents, but my first cruise was about pampering as well as adventure.

I would have cheerfully slipped into that robe and relaxed were it not for realizing the first night on board that I forgot to bring important tickets and details of the three tours my travel agent at Flight Centre booked for me.

Because I did not forward this information (as I should have done) to my Hotmail address, I was not able to access it. I was also surprised to learn our pre-paid non-refundable tours had NOT been booked through Holland America.

This translated into stress and needing help from onboard customer service. A fellow named Jason who appeared to be a Dutch officer saved the day. It took several phone calls and the weekend to access the data but eventually he was able to provide me with the necessary papers. He even sent a bouquet of flowers to our room because he could see how upset I was. Thank you, Jason!

Hooray ... I could finally relax and look forward to Juneau and our first tour.

The statue (pictured with me below) is of an English bull terrier named Patsy Ann, the town greeter. The much-loved pet of a local always knew when a ship was coming around the bend even though she was deaf. She was laid to rest in 1942 near where her statue and welcoming spirit still remain.

Little did I know how hot it would get in Juneau ... hotter than the weather we left behind. Although I was sweltering in my sweater, it was the last layer left to take off so I was stuck wearing it.

The rush to find our aptly named Last Chance tour made my temperature soar even higher.

Our cruise ship did not dock at the pier in Juneau. Rather, passengers boarded covered lifeboats to get to the shore. People booking tours with Holland America had priority to disembark. Since ours was not one of those, we were scheduled to get off last. Luckily, our tour was delayed so we need not have worried about being late.

As our mini-coach skirted through the bustling waterfront, I learned that jobs in Juneau are mainly in government and tourism nowadays.

The gold that once attracted adventurers was replaced by store after store of souvenirs made in China and diamond jewelry mostly owned by cruise ship companies. Our guide pointed to one of a few shops owned by locals.

The House of Russia (pictured above) was a reminder that in a remarkable lack of foresight Russia sold Alaska for a pittance, giving strategic advantage and a wealth of natural wonders to the United States.

We set off for what I expected would be mountains of glorious shimmering finger-numbing ice. The most impressive "diamond" of all was the shrinking but stunning glacier that is attracting tourists from around the globe.

This once powerful glacier seemed headed for extinction. Mendenhall Lake at the foot of the mountain resulted from a run-off from the glacier. The lake has continued to grow since its formation in the early 30s.

I dipped my hand in the water. It was refreshing but far from cold. Temperatures are warming in southeast Alaska as evidenced by the fallen ice sculptures melting into the water.

For a brief moment it could have been Shangri-La when we approached Mendenhall Glacier at a respectful distance.

Mini-mountains rose from the glacier like frozen sand dunes. The blue hue is a natural phenomena. As I understand it, when ice is extremely old and dense it absorbs the entire spectrum of colours except blue, which it then reflects.

With hot summers like these, I wondered how long this glacier had left before it disappeared completely into the lake.

A robin grooming its feathers in the sun was the only wildlife I saw in Juneau.

We bid farewell to the little bird and the glacier and began our journey back into town to board a lifeboat to the ship where I would thankfully swap my sweater for lighter wear. Next stop Skagway and perhaps cooler weather!

Links to each of my Hot In Alaska cruise posts are as follows:
Pt 1: Setting Off From Vancouver
Pt 2: Settling Into The Noordam, Melting In Juneau
Pt 3: Skagway & The Historic Route To The Yukon
Pt 4: Margerie Glacier Interlude
Pt 5: Picturesque Ketchikan
Pt 6: Sunrise To Remember
Pt 7: Service With A Smile

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Bird's-Eye View At Semiahmoo Mall

THIS BABY bird did not fall far from its nest that according to onlookers is located inside the crevice of a yellow cement barrier at the parking lot of a local busy mall.

It is an odd place to call home in my view but birds, like humans, are adaptable.

Waiting for its mother to return with food, the bird camouflaged well against the ground as it picked at the paint and tar and hopped on the gasoline-fumed pavement around tires and beneath vehicles.

There was a nearby restaurant with outdoor tables on the other side of the barrier. Unnatural as the treeless setting was it made sense for a city bird living at the mall to depend on crumbs and handouts from patrons.

Not necessarily as nutritious as nature intended, its diet will result hopefully in a healthy chubby bird that soon tests its wings and soars to brighter destinations.

My pictures are not clear but it seemed as if the bird was dragging feathers along its way. Was this just the shedding of baby fluff or did something more serious occur?

I left the bird ... wondering about its fate. It seemed vulnerable yet completely unconcerned.

Although it can be difficult to read the inscrutable face of an animal, author D. H. Lawrence expresses what I have observed when he wrote, "I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself."

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Dancing Hooves At RCMP Musical Ride Show

LEGS MOVED NIMBLY and gracefully to the beat at the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) Musical Ride event I attended at Semiahmoo Park last weekend.

Everyone seemed to have a camera in hand on what was a challenging day for picture takers like me who were at ground level.

There was barely a cloud in the sky that evening and the sun blazed like a high wattage bulb with no lampshade to take the glare off.

Several hundreds of onlookers encircled the performers, creating a busy background for photographs.

The horses made a strikingly beautiful contrast to their scarlet counterparts but their ebony shade melded into one indistinguishable black blot at times.

I wondered how their flexible hooves so tightly knit together avoided getting tangled. I imagined the dust and heat (it had been record-breaking hot and rainless in BC) was tough on the 32 riders and horses.

The troop sometimes performed cavalry drills in groups of four reminding me a little of square dancing. Their choreographed maneuvers created fantastic patterns, including the "Dome" once pictured in a Canadian fifty-dollar bill and best seen from a higher perspective.

I learned that a musical rider stays with the troop for only three years. The horses, on the other hand, are bred to dance and I suspect some could perform their routines in their sleep.

This 11-year-old beauty performed flawlessly despite being blind in one eye.

Straight-backed riders were affixed to their horses like gloves to a hand.

Horses seemed to prance and trot with pride exhibiting their slim silhouettes.

I noticed more women in the troop than ever before.

To have this historic display of riding capabilities, that began officially in 1887, near my neighborhood was, indeed, a thrill.

But the horses were not the only ones strutting their stuff. The amazing Crescent Beach Pipe Band also showed some leg.

The Wild Moccasin Dancers were another one of the opening acts.

Shyama-Priya danced like a butterfly as we watched enthralled.

Even when a freight train chugged down the nearby track ...

she twirled and leapt into the air in her multi-colored costume.

At the end of the event the four-legged performers dispersed and galloped to the appreciative audience waiting to pet them.

The gentle nature and patience of the horses was evident. Their riders representing all 10 provinces cheerfully answered every question.

Take a bow black beauties and red-suited riders! You certainly put on a spectacular show that is uniquely Canadian.

The troop not only entertained but also raised funds for policing in the community.

It is good to know that even though (as the saying goes) you can bring a horse to water but you can't make him drink ... you can make him dance.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms