Emerging from the Ashes

It’s been a very long time since I was in this space.

My blogging good intentions were repeatedly shoved to the side by other life responsibilities in fall 2019 and winter 2020. And then…the whole world went sideways. And I lost my words. I’ll be open about it: the pandemic has battered my mental and emotional health. As someone who lives with anxiety and is prone to depression, living in a constant, prolonged state of uncertainty and heightened ‘fight or flight’ mode has been exhausting. At times, debilitating. Often creativity-draining.

One thing that has nurtured me and healed me through the past 32 months is staying connected with nature. Surrounding myself with the sights, sounds and smells of my yard, my rural community and the nearby seashore and just…being. Trying to shut off my brain and simply exist for a moment through my senses.

It has been my saving grace. And although the pandemic is not over — indeed, the risk where I live is as now as ever — I’ve arrived at a place where I can once again use this space to share the joys of my little part of the world.

The Colours of November

A friend bemoaned the dreary drabness of November on social media the other day. I get it. Esthetically, November has little to recommend it. The rich tones of October have muted into faded greys and browns. All but the stubborn oaks have shed themselves bare. We don’t yet have the invigorating sparkle of snow cover to brighten the landscape. There have been a couple of dustings, but climate change is pushing ‘serious snow’ into January. A white Christmas is a rarity now in mainland Nova Scotia.

And yet…there are still plummy pops of colour to savour. In the ditches. In the otherwise barren fields. In the scrubby, woodsy places.

The wild cranberry vines that established themselves in our yard a couple of years ago have turned a deep, delicious burgundy. So too have the wintergreen plants, known by many as tea berries. I didn’t realize how prolific they were on our property until now.

The wild roses found along so many rural Nova Scotia roadsides have donned their crimson dresses. Even the sheep laurel dotting our front yard has upped its game with burnt orange.