"Something is calling to me

from the corners of fields,

where the leftover fence wire

suns its loose coils, and stones

thrown out of the furrow

sleep in warm litters;

where the gray faces

of old No Hunting signs

mutter into the wind,"

                    

                            from In the Corners of Fields

                                            Ted Kooser

The last of the photos from our trip to the
Cabin in May a bit late but we switched 
computers which took a while to figure out.
We are starting the trip home. A few inhabitants
of the Prairie pot holes

And then the Prairie a canvas of sky, cloud and horizon.

"Would I miss the way a breeze dimples

the butter-colored curtains on Sunday mornings,

or nights gnashed by cicadas and thunderstorms?

The leaning gossip, the half-alive ripple

of sunflowers, sagging eternities of corn

and sorghum, September preaching yellow, yellow

in all directions,"

 from  Prairie Sure

                                 Carol Light    

Calgary Flood June 2013

A you may have seen on the news Calgary has experienced 

a severe flood in the last few days. While we have had

a wet June and a record rainfall in the city Thursday and 

Friday the main problem was even heavier rains in the 

mountains  feeding the Bow and Elbow rivers as they flow 

towards Calgary. This has caused great great damage and 

some deaths in the small communities along the rivers. In 

Calgary some 60,000 - 100,000 people have been evacuated 

from the neighborhoods along the river and downtown will 

probably be closed for several days to dry out the powers 

transformers. Helen and I are fine our home is in a higher area

 and we did not even lose power. While I do have photos of the

 flood I think I will instead offer some photos taken in our 

yard earlier in the week when the rain was just the rain..

In the rain a young dog eats grass. The old dog well...,

This osprey surveys the flood.

"Here, where the world is quiet;

         Here, where all trouble seems

Dead winds' and spent waves' riot

         In doubtful dreams of dreams;

I watch the green field growing

For reaping folk and sowing,

For harvest-time and mowing,

         A sleepy world of streams."

                            from The Garden of Proserpine

                                                    Algernon Charles Swinburne

    

      

"All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay

Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air

       And playing, lovely and watery

               And fire green as grass.

       And nightly under the simple stars

As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,

All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars

       Flying with the ricks, and the horses

               Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white

With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all

       Shining, it was Adam and maiden,

               The sky gathered again

       And the sun grew round that very day.

So it must have been after the birth of the simple light

In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm

       Out of the whinnying green stable

               On to the fields of praise."

   from Fern Hill

   Dylan Thomas

and possibly my all time favorite poem.

                                          

We did stay with Helen's mom at the farm

while we worked on the cabin.

Below is a photo is of Willow Two, the first Willow appears on  

the banner for this website and was a great friend of mine.

We often took long walks together and my very sentimental

poem Paths was written for Willow

Willow Two while physically 

similar is quite different behaviourally for one she will

not go very far with me on a walk, she also is quite a 

hunter and kills even the Garter Snakes that come her way

I did manage to get one away from her while I was there

but it can be a bit disconcerting to find pieces of them.

I suspect both traits may stem from the fact she has some 

Great Pyrenees blood which would make her more territorial

and a home body. She is a lovely dog however and we get 

on well.

I do love the fields and skies of the farm and thought 

I would share some photos.

 

 

 

 

Paths 

                        “Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,”

                                                                        Tintern Abbey

                                                                                          William Wordsworth

Time was I did not walk this path alone, but words uncounted

can not tame the world to hold your shape once more.

Gone now, so very gone while I await some future call.

But until then I am here, remembering a questing spirit,

who pads the pathless night, the trackless starfields,

the wild aurora, thru the great winding fields of light.

When called, will you return by way of these tamer fields

so that one day we may take that walk together?

                                       Guy