WE LIVE IN A POEM

We chose to live on the edge of the Annapolis Basin because it is very pretty. 

Recently I found this poem by Emily Dickinson, which touches on some of our original thoughts about our environment:

“Nature” is what we see

Nature is what we see,
The Hill, the Afternoon —
Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee,
Nay — Nature is Heaven.

Nature is what we hear,
The Bobolink, the Sea —
Thunder, the Cricket —
Nay — Nature is Harmony.

Nature is what we know
But have no Art to say,
So impotent our Wisdom is
To Her Simplicity.

The reality is a bit different, but not much... here is my version of the nature that we see: 

Nature is what we see,

The ocean in front, the hill behind,

The morning sun, the evening sky –

Here, Nature links us to Heaven.

Nature is what we hear,

The birds outside: Cardinal, BlueJay, Woodpecker,

A dog's bark, a cat's meow,

Here, Nature gives us harmonious tunes.

Nature is what we smell,

Apple blossoms, lilac in bloom

Slight tang of salt in the air,

Here, Nature provides perfumes.

Nature is what we know

Squirrel, buttercup, Bumble-bee,

So impotent our wisdom

In the midst of Nature's simplicity.

I have lived in so many pretty places, some stunningly beautiful places, and a few austerely gripping places. In the grand scheme of the mystical realm, we are indeed fortunate to live in this pretty place, where we can enjoy the many permutations of the natural world around us. 

KEJI WALK

We went for a drive in the country - a back roads drive from Smith's Cove to Kejimikujik National Park. We are fortunate to have this lovely, and very accessible park with a wide variety of available activities so close to us. It takes almost an hour to get there from our home.

Kejikmijukik has wonderful waking trails, and dogs, on leashes are permitted. That is one reason why we like going there. It gives us, and our dogs, another place to walk.

 This short path led to a wooden walkway through a swampy area.  The other path we took, a gravel path,  meandered beside the river.

The view from a viewing platform...just okay at this time of year, but there are times when it is lively with water birds. Still, we were content to just gaze at the landscape for quite awhile.

 

Fiddleheads...doubt these are the eating kind, but lovely to see them, because they are such an iconic sign of spring.        The edible version is available in our supermarkets, for a hefty price per kilo. We love them, so we pay the price. They are only available for a couple or three weeks a year, so it is an annual treat.


I think trolls live here. If it was Scandinavia, I'd know they live here...there is a flowing stream and a hidden hole for getting to their house below.

An unusual garden arch along the path gave me a moment of amusement. This is one of those God-created items that would be impossible to make, with the same aspect, by human hand.

The path is right beside the Mersey River, which alternates small rapids with flat calm sections.

Us, posing beside the Mersey River.

Pretty flower stems, probably iris, were a pleasant array in a boggy spot.

A mushroom, looking suspiciously like a bun. Perhaps that is how persons determined that these are edible, but can't imagine eating this one. Somehow, it looks too toxic, poised as it was, on top of some rather scraggly looking moss and twigs.

The trees stand like tall soldiers all along the path, reaching high up into the sky, and protecting us from the edge beside the river. Doubtless they also help keep the bank secure as well.

 
I love the way the bark peels off the paper birch trees. This bark could be used for a traditional canoe.

 
 

After a pause on a bench beside the almost wild water, it was time to go home.

BLOOMING GARDEN

Our garden is sprouting patches of colour. 

The tulips and daffodils are blooming,

the wild flowers are blooming,

and the flowering trees and shrubs are blooming.

A blooming garden.

It requires hours of maintenance to keep the grass and ugly weeds at bay.  Nigel and an acquaintance of his spent about 5.5 hours yesterday cutting grass, whacking weeds, and generally sprucing up the place. That was only a 'top and tails' job. The top acre needs to be cleared more than it is now. Although we can euphemistically say that we are allowing the land to return to a natural state, the reality is that it gets so overgrown that we cannot walk up at the top of the hill with any ease. We like to keep some paths mown in the midst of the tall grass, thorny roses, and the beautiful flowers that eventually bloom up there.

The middle acre has raspberry canes that desperately need sorting into a semblance of order. The worst part is the jetsome around my studio, including Toti, the junk-yard dog.

I think this stuff procreates during the winter, because somehow there are many more bits of wood and metal in the spring than I remember seeing in the autumn. Clearing this will be an industrial job, I think. I get no joy out of cleaning this type of mess, and it peeves me off for ages afterwards. Think I'll have to get a yard cleaner; they come in with a group of lads with big muscles and fling the stuff into a truck that takes it all away...magic.  Expensive, but magic always comes with a price.

The vegetable garden will go into hibernation this year, because bindweed has taken over. Despite some attention last year, it saw its opportunity and took it. Only the garlic will remain this year. Nigel reckons he may even have to sacrifice the asparagas. Sigh.

But in the midst of all that mayhem, we have plenty of water in the well, 

we have blooming flowers,

and Nigel is having a wonderful holiday at home, putting order into the acrage.   

All of that gives me pleasure.