Sunday Evening Reflection – Waiting

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“Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth.”

Hugh Macmillan, “Rejuvenescence,” The Ministry of Nature, 1871

 

Winter has come and, with it the promise of long winter evenings of reading in the coming cold days of January and February.  I have a stack of books at the ready and have signed up to a competitive family book reading challenge that has set me on a course of discovery. Winter is a time of respite and renewal, waiting, preparing…

The soil appears to be dormant, but there is unseen activity happening in the depths of the earth in preparation for the coming of spring.  So it is with us.  May we “gather our life” in the same way as Nature and recognize the beauty of a winter landscape.

Join me as I look back on the late blooms of Autumn, just before Nature called her family together.

 

 

Solitude: A September Garden from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.

Sunday Evening Reflection in Emily’s Garden

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“I think that one’s art is a growth inside one. I do not think one can explain growth. It is silent and subtle. One does not keep digging up a plant to see how it grows.”  Emily Carr

Welcome to Sunday Evening Reflection.  I invite you to join me in a walk through Emily Carr’s garden, Victoria, British Columbia. It is a September day, the gentle warmth of the sun nourishes the vibrant colours of late summer.  In the air, winter is stirring, readying for the days of rest that prepare the earth for the coming of spring.

“It is hard to remember just when you first became aware of being alive. It is like looking through rain onto a bald, new lawn; as you watch, the brown is all pricked with pale green. You did not see the points pierce, did not hear the stab – there they are!” Emily Carr

 

A Walk in Emily’s Garden from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.

Friendships with Commas

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A long-time friend once said to me, “We have a friendship, with commas.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means that, no matter how much time has passed, we pick up our conversation where we left off. There are no “periods” in our friendship timeline.”

This memory floated into my thoughts as I was reaching high above my head to capture a photo of a flowers.

What I love most about flowers is their willingness to bloom, without receiving anything in return. There is no quid pro quo. They bloom because that is what they were meant to do. They arrive in season, without commas, welcoming us to enjoy their moment in the sun.

Georgia O’Keeffe wrote: “Nobody sees a flower – really – it is so small it takes time – we haven’t time – and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.”

May our time be fill with many commas.

Join me in walking in the St. Albert’s Botanical Garden. You need to take a rain hat, because it is raining!

Artists in a Rose Garden

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“It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.”

Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy and Tib

Artists in a Rose Garden from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.

I have always considered the month of June a synonym for roses, for it is in this special time that the fragrance of this flower is especially sweet and enticing.  There is a fresh green to the leaves, a steadfastness to the petals that attracts the gentle buzz of bees. The sun has yet to show the heat of a summer’s day, the breeze still holds a crispness of late spring.

There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence.     

Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.     

Edmund Spenser

A ChasingART series on “Artists in the Garden” explores the connection between nature and the creative spirit.  Claude Monet, Vincent van Gogh, Gustav Klimt  and Paul Cézanne intuitively understood that gardens have restorative power to inspire, heal and bring a calmness that encourages freedom of thought. The intermingling of sun, soil, seeds, and water brings forth new life, even as an artist gives birth to an internal vision that seeks an outlet.

But the rose leaves herself upon the brier, For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed.

John Keats

Gardens continue to work their seemingly magical powers.  A few days ago, I happened upon a rose garden with artists situated throughout the pathways, intent on their artistic endeavours.

 

I invite you to join me on my walk through a rose garden…

 

The Journey into Silence

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“Silence is a source of great strength.” Lao Tzu

 

This month, I am following my dear friends, The World According to Dina, Leaping Tracks and Silkannthreades into silence. For most of us, this is entering unfamiliar territory. We have become accustomed to sound, whether it be the soothing lilt of music, the white noise of traffic, urgent text message notifications, or the inevitable clamour of an alarm clock. At the same time, our affinity with silence has lessened to the point that we are uneasy in what seems to be a “void.” Consider how we rush to fill a conversation when there is a lapse into silence.

Silence is a complete absence of sound, something which very few of us will ever experience. City dwellers will always have the company of noise.  Nature offers the echoes of ocean waves crashing along a shoreline, wind rattling the trees, rain pelting the ground, voices of animals and the songs of birds. And the universe – even interstellar space is filled with noise.

I am discovering that silence can be reached when we allow the noise to drift away, when we relinquish the message conveyed by the incoming signal. In so doing, we open ourselves to new possibilities and outcomes.

In the end, silence is a personal journey, an inner conversation, an open invitation to explore and celebrate.

“I’ve begun to realize that you can listen to silence and learn from it. It has a quality and a dimension all its own.” Chaim Potok

 

Finding Silence within a City Garden from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.

Kâkesimokamik – The Healing Garden

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Kâkesimokamik in Cree means “healing garden”.  There is a rich symbolism of nature held safe within the garden.  This is a spiritual place that brings together the earth, sky, water and air.

August 9, 2018 celebrates the International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples, which came into being by the General Assembly of the United Nations resolution 49/214 of 23 December 1994.   This marked the beginning of the first International Decade of the World’s Indigenous People proclaimed for the decade, 1995 to 2004.   A Second International Decade occurred from 2005 – 2015, with the theme of “A Decade for Action and Dignity.”

This year, I celebrated International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples by visiting “The Healing Garden” in St Albert, Alberta.

The Healing Garden was officially opened on Friday, September 15, 2017.  It is a place of peace and comfort, a testament to St. Albert’s commitment to healing and reconciliation.

Situated along the scenic Red Willow Trail across from St. Albert Place, The Healing Garden is “to be a place of truth and reconciliation, a visible sign of our community’s commitment to walk in right relations with First Nation, Métis and Inuit peoples, and with all Nations.”

May we continue to celebrate inclusivity and diversity, experiencing the profound healing power of reconciliation in our lives and within our communities.