riding in . . .

riding in 'round little lake . . .

the autumn flag

whale-eye tree root

the leaves are moving in . . .

the boats that have called the marina on little lake their summer home are almost all gone now.

the leaves are moving in.

when the leaves fall

in shirley's garden

late into october and there are still roses blooming!

autumn wall

walking through a slight drizzle past a neighbour's home . . .

fallen leaves

riding home through a thin cold rain ...

a small, quiet space

creekside

among the small joys: 

three evenings ago, 

riding back into town and sharing time beside this little creek at dusk ....

the bannister

the bannister in our home 

catching colour and light 

that has passed through a piece of stained glass at the entranceway . . .

all of a sudden . . .

on a recent afternoon, i got on my bike and i chose to sit beside jackson creek at the intersection of murray and bethune . . . the trees waited for the rain last night . . .who knew that is what they were doing . . . and all of a sudden, the colours arrived . . . in the creek, colours are melting and rushing downstream . . .

My Mum's Birthday!

On this day, my Mum begins another lap of the sun.

My Mum is very much my anchor 

as my life

 is filled with all the wonderful and trying challenges 

that this world has to offer.

. . 

She has been challenged by life in many ways

-some wonderful, some not so wonderful-

and has always found a way

to meet those challenges.

She is simply, an amazing person. 

As I have the privilege of learning about her life,

 and gaining a more solid understanding of how she is who she has become, 

I am compelled to wish for many many more years with her 

so as to continue to share the unfolding of each of our lives . . . . 

I love you Mum

Steven

the stone tree

flare

train heading west

mid-october yard duty

among the small joys - mid-october yard duty . . . .

the inexpressible benevolence of Hope and Love

this is my four thousandth post here on the golden fish.

two years ago,

 my friend Michael took this photograph of me taking a photograph. 

so much has happened since that time. 

so much has changed since that time. 

you know, the stuff of life.

darkness and light, 

shadows and colours,.

lessons and stories. 

teachings. learnings.

the musician robert fripp wrote in his journal years ago: 

"In strange and uncertain times, 

sometimes a reasonable person might despair.

But Hope is unreasonable, 

and Love is greater even than this." 

i Love that: "Hope is unreasonable". 

Hope simply refuses to bow before much of anything i experience and i am grateful that for whatever reason i am able to welcome it as the benevolent and transformative force that it is.

and yes, in my own experiencing,

"Love is even greater than this".

but that's another story, 

the telling of which will arrive another time!

a pretty october morning

mid october

quiet time beside the river . . .

become

this brave

this genuine

this simple

this beautiful!

the silver bean cafe archipelago

on a morning ride in to school through a cold fog . . . 

rainy day details

a rainy afternoon . . . .

leaf islands

watching little leaf islands make their way downriver . . . .

to be dazzled

“Still, what I want in my life
is to be willing
to be dazzled—
to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.
I want to believe I am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.
I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing—
that the light is everything—that it is more than the sum
of each flawed blossom rising and falling. And I do.”

Mary Oliver, House of Light

this one pale red leaf

riding in this morning - i passed this one pale red leaf and the autumn sunlight held it . . . just so . . . .

whorl

sometimes i hear a voice.
"stop here".
it happened this morning. so, i got off my bike and clambered down the bank to the riverside where i saw a small branch covered with green leaves spinning under a tree that overhangs the river casting wicked sweet reflections . . . . this is that moment . . . .

lock 24, the "douro" lock

quiet time beside this old lock . . .