Super Wonderful Canada From Coast To Coast

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

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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

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 Kurios End To A Curious Year

WE WERE in luck despite dire warnings from the weatherman. Not a single flake fell during our drive to Vancouver to cash in on our Christmas gift, prime seats at the Cirque du Soleil. The sun shone and excitement built as we waited to see what was inside the trademark blue and yellow striped tent.

The show succeeded in crafting a world of wonders. The costumed characters were sublime in a topsy-turvy dream-like atmosphere where life fell between the cracks of the imagination and was upside down at times. What would one find in a mechanical nautical world of a different era where talented people wearing strange makeup and odd masks performed improbable physical tasks? Although pictures were not allowed, the images will linger in my mind.

The show was a fittingly curious end to a curiously confusing year, particularly on the political scene where the world was turned upside down and inside out.

Since reality is, indeed, in some ways relative and perception plays a role, perhaps the chaotic past year will one day be seen as a death-defying circus act that in the end had a safety net to bounce reality into a better place. Wiser kinder actions in the world. Those are the feats I'll look for in the New Year.

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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.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Some Sunny Day ...

WE WAITED at St. Mark's Anglican Church in Surrey, hosting a choir from neighboring Langley, to hear the songs of World Wars I and II. These were written when the fight for good over evil seemed more clear than the conflicts that followed. I wondered if those earlier wars ever really ended. Many battles boiling up today stem from territories split and grudges formed decades ago.

The ability to solve tribal problems hasn’t improved it seems while the stoking of extremism and the building of more deadly weapons is on the rise. Current key leaders add to destabilization, making life appear on the brink sometimes. Thankfully, there's nothing like a well sung song by First Capital Chorus to bring joy and peace to a room and to relax the worry.

I wondered amid a sea of white hair in the audience and choir where the young people were and why more youngsters didn’t wear poppies, particularly since they'll inherit the messy challenges left behind. It's the mostly young who died bravely and it's they who still soldier on in dangerous places for the rest of us. They deserve respect and remembering, if history is not to repeat itself over and over again. Joining the military is optional in Canada but that might not always be the case. My thoughts lingered on misty ghosts from the past and lyrics about sunnier days as the choir concluded with an iconic wartime song capturing both the optimism and uncertainty about the future, then and now.

We'll Meet Again, written by Ross Parker and Hughie Charles in 1939, was a beacon of hope:

We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day
Keep smilin' through
Just like you always do
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say hello
To the folks that I know
Tell them I won't be long
They'll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song
We'll meet again
Don't know where
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Vera Lynn, very much alive at the age of 100, brought this and many more soothing songs to light, making wartime sacrifices a little more bearable. Listen to her moving voice as it slips through time into the present HERE.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

150 Years Young, Canada!

IT'S CANADA DAY eve and the red leaf flutters over clear and cloudy skies.

Hooray to Canada for being such a wonderfully diverse and peaceful place in which to live. Not only is it "strong and free" it includes stunning views, interesting people from around the globe as well as geographical challenges for people who love to be physically inspired. Climate and terrain vary across ten provinces and three territories that span some 4,000 miles from sea to sea. Celebrating 150 years of Confederation, Canada is a giant-sized toddler gaining strength along the way while holding true to its values. There is room for improvement, of course, but among nations Canada is poised to do the right things not only for itself but for the world.

I was pleased most recently with Canada's involvement in the Paris Accord and also its welcoming stance on immigration from war torn Syria.

My parents immigrated to Canada before I was born. Learning a new language in unfamiliar circumstances wasn't easy and life was harsh but my mother said becoming a Canadian citizen was one of the proudest happiest moments of her life.

Mom didn't live long enough to meet my daughter but I know she'd be especially proud to hear her sing "O Canada" a cappella with school friends years ago. I listen the song each Canada Day. Enjoy!

See more skies from around the globe at SKYWATCH.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Impatient For A Better World

"They tried to bury us. They didn't know we were seeds." This Mexican proverb, possibly rooted in writings by Greek poet Dinos Christianopoulos, expresses how some things in life simply cannot be repressed.

Vigils for innocent men murdered at a Quebec City mosque, women's marches and spontaneous peaceful protests show how ordinary people are sowing seeds of compassion.

When people rise up and resist hatred, hopeful outcomes feel possible and signs of spring fill the air.

Unsettled thoughts escape into backyard gardens post the bitter political season nearby that made winter seem endless. Now it's time for new buds to break through the ground.

The camellia (first photo, top) bloomed throughout fall and winter but most flowers vanished like the snowdrop (left) to suddenly reappear.

Even this firmly planted rock is heralding spring.

Plumes of pampas grass (above) produced the seeds that breezes blow. Seeds fly and float and land in nurturing places. Free from boundaries and whisked along on their haphazard journey they could flower anywhere.

The first plants to arrive are usually the impatients (above). Their eagerness for better weather pales in comparison to our eagerness for a gentler kinder world. As usual ... a few steps backward before going forward again.

The iris (below) was quietly coming alive when it was hit by a surprise snowfall this weekend. Winter CAN fool you but spring will not be denied.

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The "Spring" inscription on the rock (pictured above) is why I am also linking to SIGNS, SIGNS.

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Empowering Women's March, 2017, Vancouver

I FOLLOWED the bobbing umbrella down the street during the Women's March in Vancouver this weekend. The weather cooperated with minimum drizzle and although the morning was chilly nothing could stifle the energy that surged through the people participating.

We marched shoulder to shoulder as the crowd kept growing.

Signage was everywhere and people proudly expressed their views.

Before we marched, speakers urged us to remain active. It was noted that although we would like to think otherwise, Canada is not immune to racism and sexism. Equality, diversity, inclusion ... these must not be empty words.

Musicians added to the upbeat feeling that hovered over the grand occasion.

Police were on hand to keep traffic flowing.

Pets also came along. Pink was the colour of the day.

Plenty of men were happy to show their support.

Some folks wore clothing exemplifying the inner spark that had been lit.

"Let their hate fuel our fire so we may burn brighter," one sign said.

These two marchers delighted everyone with their creative costumes.

A chant occasionally roared out. Passion and peace filled the air.

I was grateful to share the experience with a dear friend ...

as well over 15,000 thousand other women.

Picture takers were everywhere commemorating the historic walk.

All ages were represented.

Some didn't actually walk but rode on their parent's shoulders.

Yes, there were messages about love but a fighting spirit was present.

Women rights ARE human rights and sometimes we don't even recognize when those rights are being trampled on.

The words above are a twist on a well-known prayer. They say, "I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept."

Above is the only signage NOT appreciated. Some in Vancouver are trying to have the name removed from the building. This is where the march ended.

In a celebratory mood after the event, my friend and I went for lunch. Along the way we met local artist Chris Turo.

Here is a look at a painting he did that my friend purchased. Chris also carves lovely wooden feathers. An example can be seen HERE.

After lunch we returned near to where we started at Canada Place. The Olympic Cauldron stood virtually alone. The crowd had dispersed, the signage was gone and not a trace of litter was left behind. Along the way we discovered an alley painted beautifully in bright colours reflecting the joyfulness of our day.

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This post will also be linked to SIGNS, SIGNS.

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms