Thursday, or Thereabouts - December 10, 2015

How GREEN is my Valley

Soft rays of warmth bid me come out and wander through grasslands...

...and forests.

No tuque. No scarf. No mitts. No boots.
Summer hiking shoes, fleece jacket, sunglasses.
And still I broke a sweat on our hike through the forest.

Even Sophie needed to cool off.

And she found a stick, of course.

If I didn't know for sure that it was December, I could well believe it was early Spring. Only in the early Spring do I see such vibrant greens.

A glance upward through the mighty oaks and poplars tells a more seasonally appropriate story.

Coming home, there is "don't make me get the lawn mower out" green.



And mint green...

And fresh lamium

Then...
 OMG yellow!

How green is my valley? More green than usual, more green than it should be in December.

But with a flourish of yellow life in my valley raises a triumphant shout, "Joy to the World."

©2015 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - July 28, 2014

Oh Happy Day...

The night featured black and white snapshot-like images of dark trees set against flashes of bright sky. Window pane rattling, foundation shuddering thunder growled deep and long in the darkness. And it rained - oh my did it ever come pouring down, at times sounding like a great waterfall from the heavens. The sound and light show drew to a close in the wee hours, but the rain, no longer torrential, splashed right on through today's sunrise before running out of water.

By mid-morning all was past and Sophie was ready to celebrate. This is the same resident canine who spent much of the night cowering in our bathroom, when she wasn't whining at the bedside, hot doggie breath in my face, one paw on my arm, "Mummy, Mummy it's the end of the world..."

But of course it wasn't or if it was, we all survived it including Sophie. Big smiles, bigger whole body tail wagging and bouts of silly walks said it all: this was a day of jubilation. And what better way to celebrate than to go for a hike in the forest. If she could sing, more than howl, surely Sophie would pumping out "Oh Happy Day."

These next two photos are not from the forest but my garden where the tomatoes are ripening... .

 and the day lilies are singing...

Oh happy day...


©2014 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - October 17, 2013

Sophie's Choice

It's been a stunning Autumn so far. Many, many days of sunshine and warm temperatures lure me outside to meander through the forest and revel in the splendour of it all. I confess that I "left undone those things which I ought to have done" and fallen for Autumn's siren call - again, and again, and again. Woe is me.

Every morning all the "oughts" and "shoulds" line up to wag fingers of condemnation at me as they hector, "Today, today you must go to the gym. Today you must work."

Every morning I drink in remorse along with my cappuccino and I resolve to do better, to resist the temptation of the world outside my door, to get to the gym, then get back home to nail my backside to the chair and get to work on my book. But then the great day star rises above the trees, drenching my writing space in light. The world outside sparkles and Autumn quickens her step. I cap my pen, turn from the page for just a moment...




Our faithful canine Sophie stirs at my feet, stands and stretches then rests her chin on my lap. Her mismatched eyes - one blue,one brown - are as seductive as the season, "Let's go for a walk, mummy. Pleeeeeze." And I am undone. Camera and dog treats at the ready, we make good our escape into the forest.

Sophie wanted to go all the way to the stream yesterday, way at the far east end of the trail, a good 3 mile hike round trip. In fact when I tried to take the more usual path, she simply sat down and would not budge until I caved in. There had been quite a lot of rain overnight so the ground was soft and glistening. It was grand. And it was after all, Sophie's choice.

Text & photos ©2013 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - July 11, 2013

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart."

This William Wordsworth quotation has been bouncing around in my consciousness for a few days now, and I'm happy to report that several more pages of the memoir I'm working on have been filled as a result of that bobber in the midst of the otherwise placid lake of my mindfulness. Yay!

Some days fishing is a good metaphor for my writing process - just throw out a line and see what's biting.Today I'm honing 'catch and release' skills, which in fishing is a fine and admirable practice but in writing nets a very paltry take, unless of course you are my inner critic. My inner critic is having a blast. She can hardly believe her luck on the lake today. All I can hear is her gleeful cackle: "That one's too big. That one's too small. That one's no good. That one bites."

The write fish has got to be out there, somewhere. I check my tackle and recast the line, aiming for the quiet pool just beyond the reeds, just over the rock ledge, that ... perfect ... spot. Ahh but alas, perfection is the inner critic's splash park. No wonder she's having so much fun today!

Time for me to exchange my pen for the camera, for today the breathings of my heart inspire me discover wordless images of beauty and wonder, joy and love. And that's about as perfect as anything gets.

Let's go for a walk in my garden.

Now let's head over to the York Regional Forest - Hollidge Tract

And back home again for a good roll in the grass:

All photos ©April Hoeller 2013