Through the window the first snow of the season settled on branches turning the world white. Still ephemeral, as the day warms up the branches shed their ermine stoles. Each year the first snowfall is enchanting, a window into the fairytale of the snow maiden. December is coming.
Here is the same view at the beginning of the month.
I love to come across good street art. As we are transitioning from autumn to winter (some snow is expected tonight) it was fun to come across this representation of our seasons. The air felt crisp and I was glad to have my winter coat on as I walked. It's funny to think that as the trees shed their clothing we start to add more. Getting ready to go outside just takes longer as we don heavier coats, hat, scarf and gloves and soon boots.
Each season has its charms. This year November was sunnier than usual, but it is usually quite grey. Then I welcome the fresh white snow which sparkles in the sunshine adding brightness to the short December days.
This photo is dedicated to my friend, Jen, in PEI. She opened my eyes to the whimsical nature of bush wrapping. Here in Montreal we have cold, snowy winters and many people wrap up bushes to protect them from the weather and the salt that is spread on the roads. When you let your imagination go you can see beyond the wrapped bush to see figures, animals and much more. I think this bush actually has a face. Is this "man" carrying sheaves of wheat to the mill to be ground? or is this a Native American with feather plumes decorating his deerskin outfit?
Jen has taken a whole series of photographs of these "creatures." It is interesting to see the change in shape as the snow helps to reshape them over the winter. I'll be photographing more as the seasons change.
After a concert we walked to the metro. It was the first time I walked through the plaza near the Bell Centre since the 100 year celebrations for Les Canadiens. I came upon this sculpture on Maurice Richard, a Montreal legend. He was larger than life in my childhood - the player who more than any other epitomized hockey in our city. Even though I was quite young when he retired from hockey, his name was always said with awe.
A few years ago I saw the film made about him, The Rocket, and was once again struck by the struggle he had to be valued as a player and as a French Canadian. It is a far cry from there to our overpaid athletes of today. I am glad to see him honoured here.
My daughter inherited the flower gene. She went out today and brought back these orchid stems. As the colours fade outdoors, we both enjoy having flowers indoors. Their lively colours brighten our surroundings. I love to have plants in my home - it feels less sterile.
I do have several orchids, but the only one flowering right now is one I bought recently. A couple of my others have buds, but it will be a while before the blossoms open. My Christmas cacti have dropped their blooms as they go back into a more dormant stage.
I am enjoying this bunch though I am not convinced that this is their natural colour - I think they have sucked up colouring through the water they were in. Funny that we even think of tampering with their natural beauty.
My son, now an adult, created this in his early years in high school. I always thought it looked like it could have walked out of "Where the Wild Things Are". It sits in my living-room, a source of amusement and of pride.
I have always honoured the work my children did, displaying it for all to see. Some works have slowly been delegated to less conspicuous places or have been filed away. Others have kept their prominent spots as they are not just the creations of my children, but are really pieces I enjoy long past the time of assuring their egos are intact. This whimsical fellow definitely fits that category.
When the day is coming to a close and there has been little opportunity for a photograph, there are always the cats. My two senior felines, know how to get their needs met. They burrow into blankets as if in a sleeping bag and survey the world from their cosy nest.
As they get older, they spend more of their day sleeping, finding all the warm spots in the house, be it under blankets, in a sunbeam or under a lamp. They frequently curl up together, sharing their body warmth. I think there is nothing quite so relaxed as a sleeping cat, nor so relaxing as curling up under the blanket with them for warmth and a rhythmic purr.
