Beltane Wanderings

At around dusk, Emi asked if I wanted to go for a walk in the woods, and of course I said yes.  We picked up a friend of hers on the way.  It rained this afternoon, and everything had that fresh, sweet smell that you always get after rain in the spring time.  The Peepers were deafening as we picked our way through the slick mud, over wet rocks, and through damp grasses, fending off mosquitoes as we went.  Emi tried to catch a frog (it was brown, though we're not sure what type it was.) as we wound our way through the flooded areas, looking for peepers and other frogs.  We saw the colour of the sky through the trees as the sun set.

When we started walking home, the sun was gone, and it was getting steadily darker.  There was enough light to follow the paths through the woods, though.  At parts, you could easily see the path, because stretching off on either side of the narrow trail were hundreds upon hundreds of Trilliums, ghostly white in the dark, almost glowing in their paleness.

Whenever we leave the woods, though it's only a straggly bit of what it once was, much smaller even then when I was a young child, it's always a shock.  From the soft-cool beauty of the woods, to a harsh suburbia of straight streets, manicured, poisoned lawns, and ostentatious houses.  To step directly into that from the forest always rattles me.

The other day, we stood in the cleared patch between strips of trees, the one that's flooded right now because of spring, and is home to a host of amphibians and other wildlife.  We looked at the power lines, stretching away as far as the eye could see.  That's why there are no trees there, only scrub and marshes.  We were watching the sun set, watching the sky turn orange and pink and sunset perfect.  "Can you imagine what the view would be like without the power lines?" I said wistfully.  "We'll never get to see that." My companion replied with sadness.  I told him I wasn't so sure about that.  I often wonder if things will start coming down within my lifetime.  If things will start shifting and changing in major ways.  Sometimes, the idea terrifies me.

...But other times, seeing how much has been destroyed in even my short lifetime, seeing the constant development and destruction, I think the day can't come soon enough! There's a part of me, a big part of me, that just longs for something I've never even experienced: true, old growth forest.  Marshes that aren't criss-crossed with paths and tire-tracks and bridges.  Streams so clean and fresh and alive that I can stoop down and drink from them when I get thirsty.  People think we have a wonderful quality of life, but without that, we really don't.  Without a world like that, I'll always feel there's something wrong.  Off.  It's something constantly niggling at me in some far reach of my mind, something that's only partially soothed by spending time in nearby woods.  The patches of woods available to me relax me and delight me.  But I'm also always saddened.  It's just so little.  So polluted, and so fragile.  They're still planning on building more.  Destroying more of what little we have left...

Still, it smelled wonderful walking home, even once we'd left the softly dripping earthiness that is our tiny forest.  And when we stopped outside our house, Emi caught something passing overhead out of the corner of her eye: bats!  We figure they're probably nesting in the neighbors tree again.  We stood and watched them for a while as they swooped back and forth over our heads, catching bugs, jagged wings outlined against what little light was left in the sky.  And I couldn't help but smile, and dance into the house in happiness to tell my mother, whom I knew would be interested.

A good way to celebrate Beltane. 

Peace,
Idzie

Gaspe, the old house, memories from my childhood...

Isn't it strange how small sounds, sights, smells can trigger a memory, just like that? A flash of something in the past, so strong it almost feels like, for a moment, you're actually there again.

I was just sitting by my computer, window open wide, warm air blowing and sunlight streaming in, when I heard a crow caw, and a memory flashed. In that memory, I'm looking out of the window of my Great Grandmother, Nan's, house in Gaspe. Crows wheel in the air, cawing. They also cluster on the ground, talking and squabbling while they hurry to grab the best bits of food. Nan would always keep a large, once white, bucket in the kitchen for table scraps. The evidence of thousands of meals was forever immortalized on that bucket in a variety of colors, mostly those of rotting food! Then, periodically, she'd toss the scraps out onto the wide expanse of mowed grass that stretched out from the side door. And I'd watch the crows. I've always loved crows!

It's been many years since I'm been to Gaspe now, but I still remember it as one of the most beautiful places on earth. It's right near where the great St. Laurent river meets the Atlantic ocean, and as it's too far North for it to be fashionable as anything but a tourist destination, it's not overly populated. Vast tracts of forest lie virtually untouched, except for where the ski slopes cut abruptly through the mountainsides, scarring a place that I wish I could have seen several hundred years ago... You can pick cranberries in the meadows, or buckets full of wild blueberries, sweet and sun warmed, right off the plants, clustered in the edges of the forest where grass turns to trees... You see both deer and moose tracks regularly, and the area is also home to a host of other wildlife.

By the seashore, you can play in the waves, as long as you're careful of the occasionally deadly undertows, and I've watched seals playing in the water a mere few dozen feet from the shore. As you walk along certain beaches, on one side is the water, and on the other side, cliffs, crumbling slowly and surely down onto the beach, old Summer houses sitting precariously close to the ever retreating edge. I've sat in an unoccupied life guards chair, and looked out onto a glittery, ever moving expanse of water that stretches on forever... I've walked the beach at night, when the cool white/gray/blue light of the moon stretches out from the shore to a perfectly full disk, a pathway to the moon...

Some places you go, you can watch the whales lifting themselves out of the water for a perfect photographic moment, or, more likely, simply see the flash of fin, and feel a thrill of excitement at getting even a glimpse of one of the most amazing creatures on earth... In the harsh rocks near the waters edge, you can go searching for fossils, imprints of old sea life on broken rocks, creatures that have been dead for millions of years, and trace their spiral shells with your fingertips, cool and hard to the touch...

I love that place so much, even though I haven't been there since I was 11, and I haven't been there for more than two days since I was 10! Nan, my Great Grandmother, is still alive, and turning 99 (I can hardly believe it!) next month. However, she's not really up to taking care of herself anymore, and lives with her son, although he brings her back to Gaspe every single Summer... The house where they stay, the house I remember so well, is right next to the very same house that my Nan grew up in, almost a century ago, a house that was built by her father in the late 1800's. In the old cemetery, now hidden behind someones house and almost inaccessible, you can find the names of my family carved in stone, or so I've been told. So much of my ancestral history lives on there, and so, so many memories from my childhood... So much beauty and life, far away from the city lights, and far enough north that you can watch the northern lights flicker, ethereal and unearthly, across the night sky... I have to go back there. Soon. Because I miss it...

Peace,
Idzie

Several things that make life pretty good right now

I just came in from a quick grocery store run, and as my mom and I pulled into the driveway, we saw a Robin just a little ways along the street! Now, as you probably know, Robins are a sure sign of Spring. And then to make things even better, when I got out of the car, I heard a sound that I'm very familiar with: geese! And sure enough, when I looked up I saw the distinctive V formations heading across the sky. When the Canada Geese come back, it means Spring is here! Woo hoo! I walked into the house with a huge smile on my face.

Also, an unschooling friend is coming to visit in early April, which makes me very happy! We can wander around downtown Montreal, sit around by the water, or simply chill in my room listening to music. Whatever we end up occupying our time with, I'm sure we'll have a good time!

Another thing that's been making me very happy lately is music. I'm in love with virtually all types of music, but something I love particularly is Celtic inspired rock and folk. Most of my favorite songs are Celtic inspired. I just love it. So here are a few wonderful songs in that category that you may want to check out...

The Bard's Song by Blind Guardian
The Islander by Nightwish
Loser by Ayreon

Other than that, my life is too quiet. I'm bored. So I need to think of some new activities to start, some new things to do... Hopefully I'll come up with some things soon, before I go entirely out of my mind! ;-)

EDIT: Oh oh, and I also really enjoyed dressing nicely last night! I'd gotten very used to just throwing my clothes on with no attention to what actually makes me happy, but last night I pulled out some of my punk and goth type stuff and felt that I looked very nice. I really do have to put the effort into my outfits, because I feel so much happier, and much more confident, when I feel like my clothes not only look good, but also reflect my personality and individuality. I changed my blogger profile pic to one from last night. :-)

Peace,
Idzie

Beauty

Last night it was beautiful.

I talked for hours with my mom, discussing everything under the sun. And because we were talking, we were still up a bit past 1:00 am when I heard a noise on the deck. Of course, my paranoid mind going into overdrive, I called for reinforcements in the form of my mother than we switched the outside light on and looked out the door. There, peaking out from behind a bin, was the cutest raccoon I have ever seen. He looked to be young, I'm guessing maybe a year old, and what struck me so much about him was simply his expression. There was no malice in his eyes, no anger, just slight caution, and curiosity. He watched us for several minutes, furry ears sharply perked, before deciding we didn't seem to be any threat and creeping out from behind his hiding place. Once out in the open, and seeing as we still hadn't made any move to harm him, he started ignoring us in favour of the fresh grapes that encircle our deck. I couldn't blame him, really. They are delicious! Sadly it was only the that we thought to get a camera, once the spell was broken a bit. We got a few blurry shots, but although we haven't downloaded them yet I don't think we got any good ones. I will always remember that look on his face though, eyes bright and appraising, full of curiosity and life... Anyone who can look at a beautiful wild creature like that and see only a pest is blind, and anyone who can look at a beautiful wild creature like that and desire to own him, either as a pet or as a fur coat, is simply fucked up. It always feels magical when I come across a wild creature, when we make eye contact, or somehow connect in that short time we are in each others sight, then go our separate ways without ever harming or frightening the other, those moments truly stay with you. Isn't it a sad testament to our current world that those moments are few and far between, and that because of what we've done we've taught most animals to fear, or even hate us? And we have all "learned" that wild animals are vicious, dangerous, and had best be avoided. I want a world with mutual respect, where all of us animals can live together naturally, the way we're supposed to. In case you hadn't noticed, I haven't given up hope yet!

Pictures of my mom and me...

I'll add the raccoon shots when I get them uploaded onto the computer.