Winter’s Shadow

Expectancy is the atmosphere for miracles.” – Edwin Louis Cole

Most of the leaves have fallen like stars now, their caramel and maple scents replaced with an alchemy of wood smoke and Arctic air. In the last day or so, snow has fallen like icing sugar upon the local mountains and the winter festivals have woken up from their year long slumber.

A recent walk down to the ocean on a trail murmuring with magic gifted me with rare stillness, slowing down racing thoughts, the quiet broken briefly by a lone eagle’s call. Just steps away, the water lay calm in winter colours of icy blue and burnished silver. A beautiful black and white malamute with eyes of unearthly blue stood upon wet rock near its master, posing for pictures beside the seawall, his wildness shimmering beneath domestic illusion. Other delights to admire were the driftwood sculptures and seaweed mandala designs left upon the sand by the receding King tides, having returned some of the logs taken from the beaches only a day or so ago!

Days like this, deeply felt, are even more precious since my father’s passing. He lived below our suite, just a short flight of stairs away – even now, I find myself peeking out our windows searching for the warm light that let us know that all was well. His rooms are empty now with someone new poised to move in, a reminder that life is never static.

Change is indeed afoot, a development sign has sprung up like a poison mushroom on our street announcing a 19 storey new build to replace a nostalgic three-storey providing housing and hotel apartment suites for rent. We enjoyed the simple amenities on offer there when Terry’s sister came out for a long stay holiday a few years ago. I have fond memories of delicious meals eaten together at the dining room table before retiring to the comfortable couches, the coffee table holding glasses of red wine and bowls of salty potato chips. Those rooms offered us respite after busy days exploring the city, the thought of them and the beautiful garden being replaced by glass-like progress saddens my heart. It sets a dangerous precedent for our bucolic neighbourhood tucked away from the fray.

Hoarding moments and experiences like the squirrels scurrying among fallen nuts and seeds, I watch as autumn’s bright flame makes way for winter’s long shadow, counting down the days to this year’s bittersweet end.

Our summer picnic tables near the Reindeer Café at Bright Nights in Stanley Park (Vancouver, B.C.)

Finding more beautiful lights to see at Bright Nights in Stanley Park (Vancouver, B.C.) on a hidden inner trail!

After wandering through Bright Nights, we found ourselves at Beaver Lake in Stanley Park (Vancouver, B.C.) listening to ravens and admiring the wildlife just a breath away from busy downtown.

 

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About anotetohuguette

I'm currently blogging from the beautiful West Coast city of Vancouver, British Columbia - a vibrant city by the sea, surrounded by mountains and a very unique urban forest.
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38 Responses to Winter’s Shadow

  1. Change is endless, isn’t it? And yet nature somehow gives us respite, moments of stillness for reflection. A lovely post, Kim. I’m glad you have beautiful Stanley Park so near. It looks like a wonderful place to catch one’s breath. ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Shirley Ross says:

    Progress for some is disaster for others. Turning our little corner of the West End into glass and cement leaves my heart aching. Cooler temps find me into the Hot Chocolate more often. Used to pick up special coffee for your Dad, and find myself, teary in a busy drug store. The joy in children can heal my heart.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. calmkate says:

    lovely nostalgic memories … HUGS as you negotiate this next stage of the grieving process … having someone living in his rooms will hurt but they will feel his energy there 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Ilah says:

    What a wonderful piece of writing ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I am so glad you still have some lovely green places to visit Kimberlee. It is indeed sad when lovely buildings are replaced by newer models.

    Liked by 1 person

    • My almost daily walks in the forest or in my neighbourhood are so soothing despite the many changes I’m experiencing or noticing lately! It’s lovely to see your word here, Brigid…I hope you and yours have a wonderful holiday season!

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Beautiful images that transport me to where you are, and a haunting nostalgia for what was and what is likely to be lost.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Ali Grimshaw says:

    I hear grief and understanding in this piece. I cannot imagine the transition you are going through after your father’s death. But I believe it is a gift to others that you write about your path forward. Change is life, but that doesn’t make it easier for the heart. Take good care.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Kimberlee, I am sending you much love and Light. I hear you and acknowledge your courage. To me, you are so present with your feelings and willing to be in stillness …. and allowing yourself to be. I remember when my mom died, one of the only things that helped me for quite a while was to go into the woods and scream and cry, and simply remember her.
    I am going on a spiritual retreat on the Central Coast in a few hours. Will be back blogging in 2 weeks or so. Blessings to you Kimberlee!! Debbie

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Debbie (always!) for your warm support and beautiful words! I hope your retreat is everything you need it to be, I’ll be there in spirit…I can still see that wonderful image of the crashing waves in my mind’s eye.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Kimberlee, I want you to know that I’m sharing this gorgeous post for #ForgivingFridays. You are so courageous in your willingness to be still and invite yourself to be fully present. That is a gift and inspiration. Love and Light — Debbie

        Liked by 1 person

      • You’re so sweet, Debbie…I just came through a very tender part of the year and completely forgot to submit my post! You are a gift and your generous spirit never fails to warm my heart!

        Liked by 1 person

  9. markmkane says:

    The loss of a loved one is always difficult and we never really get over it. Everyday is a challenge. The best way is to reflect on all the good times and remember the traits that our loved ones instilled in us so that we can pass it on to others. Sending nothing but positive energy your way during this holiday season. Keep writing Kimberlee, your words are truly touching and a pure gift to all those that read your words!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so much, Mark, for your very wise, beautiful words…it’s the first day of winter, our bittersweet autumn is over now with a brand new year around the corner…I hope you and yours have a wonderful holiday season!

      Liked by 1 person

  10. Pingback: It’s the Last Forgiving Fridays of 2018! Today’s topic is Gratitude and Forgiveness – ForgivingConnects

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  12. The imagery, the memories, the poignant harbingers of change and loss are woven together so beautifully, Kim. I feel I’m right there with you. I wish you reflective and life-giving moments in this coming year.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Your writing illustrates the wonderful enjoyment you have of this season! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Jade M. Wong says:

    You conveyed such beautifully detailed scenes that I felt like I was walking down the ocean trail with you or eating my own bowl of potato chips with my family! I’m sending you strength and hugs as you power through another year of change and without your father, but it sounds like you’re plenty strong yourself 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Aakansha says:

    “Expectancy is the atmosphere for miracles.”

    This quote, this is all I needed today. You’re lovely. Thank you.
    (Also, I hope that 19 storey building isn’t a hindrance to your walks and natural sights you seem to be blessed with.)
    😦

    Liked by 1 person

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