Light at the end of the tunnel
And by tunnel I mean the dark, dreary, wet, chilly month that was October 2021.
And by tunnel I mean the dark, dreary, wet, chilly month that was October 2021.
A muted, mid-Autumn palette, a few moments of mid-day sunshine, and the peaceful presence of a few feathered creatures:
A few, selected mages from an overcast, bright morning at Beaver Lake in Stanley Park:
I confess I spent too much time in Lightroom processing these four photographs as I experimented with colour grading, rather than relying on presets. I’m not sure I like the results but it was time to say “Enough — done is better than perfect.” And overall, it was a worthwhile learning exercise in which I felt uncomfortable but also eager to become competent in this skill. I will continue to practice!
“Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love — that makes life and nature harmonize.”
~ George Eliot
A female mallard duck dabbles near the shore of Lost Lagoon at Stanley Park
Perhaps I should rename this page A Walking Journal as it is evolving naturally in this direction.
A walk of faith at Stanley Park in early October
While I wandered along the trails, I listened to Emergence Magazine's podcast A Forest Walk – a guided practice by Kimberly Ruffin, which helped me experience a "continuous exchange of belonging" with the forest.
My eyes were delighted by komorebi, which is the untranslatable Japanese word for the effect created by sunlight when it is filtered through the leaves of trees (source).
As Suzanne Simard writes in the introduction to Finding the Mother Tree “The scientific evidence is impossible to ignore: the forest is wired for wisdom, sentience, and healing." I also can’t ignore my own experiences and so say in response “I know and believe!”
I walked to Stanley Park again this past weekend on both Saturday and Sunday mornings to wander along the trails and make photographs until mid-afternoon.
When I do this I turn off my mind and orient my senses to all that surrounds me. I am filled with gratitude, reverence, wonder and calm.
A slow transition to autumn foliage on South Creek Trail
Reflections on a calm day
Harmony, balance, and rest
The peace of wild things — this perfect phrase and the title of a beloved Wendell Berry poem come to mind whenever I’m among the more than human creatures of Stanley Park.
Enjoying the warm sunshine and the company of curious, not so wild Wood Ducks.