for Beth

My dearest Beth,

It has been a week since I was informed of your tragic passing. My heart still aches.  I will always cherish our friendship that began as kids and lasted these many decades. Through thick and thin we were there for each other.

The many missives over the years when you finally got e-mail. Even today I happened upon a site and thought O! Beth is going to.........then reality hit once again. I laugh when I think of your first texts. “Damnit Cheryl! Use capitals and proper punctuation! I'm old and can't understand a thing you typed!” Old me arse, you were ageless.

Our unplanned visits that turned into road trips that long outlasted my idea of a quick journey, well that was you. Keep driving and enjoy the journey. The artist studio tours we attended savouring and whispering critiques were special days. You thrived in their environment and I was envious of your creativity. I read the card you created for my special birthday and wept. To think of the hours you spent painting, writing, collaging that card just for me still touches my soul.

Our visits at your log home with your hubbie and own children. You always made everyone feel right at home. Why does the recollection of you arriving here with your daughter resplendent with her green hair come to mind. As I hhmmmed, you shrugged and laughed “kids today”. You raised your children right and I cry when I think your grand-daughter will never know what an awesome grannie you would have been.

The many hours we spent here at the Pond, discussing the garden and life. You always left with a trunk full of plants and later shared photos of them growing so well with your guidance. You certainly had a green thumb, make that two green thumbs for your own gardens were well known and admired by all who had the pleasure of enjoying them. I posted your most prized photo of your garden and the haiku I wrote for it. You smiled when I sent it back to you.

The endless discussions of fae and otherworldly creatures knowing we both believed. I dusted off Silas the gremlin you and Amber sculpted and gifted to me. It's in a place of honour in my home. Sharing shelf space with the mannnnnnnnnnnny frogs. I always laughed when opening a birthday gift as I knew it had to be a frog. Frogs balancing on lily pads, sitting in a yoga position, I got em all.

You always encouraged me to write and were so thrilled when I sent you my book of ponderings. Without your review 'cause mah grammer ain't always been great, it would have been a regretful project. The many press releases and letters you gleefully edited. And I will never forget you in cahoots with my brother to have Charles dedicate one of his books for me, well dear Beth, that holds a special place on my bookshelf. I've already begun re-reading it.

My quirks and eccentricities were understood by you and no other. Am I being selfish when I state there will never be another in my life who gets me the way you did. That fact causes me a greater sense of loss than no other loss of family or friends. It also scares me that I feel so alone. No one will ever take the place of you Beth. No. One.

I could write pages how grateful I am for having you in my life but you already knew that as does everyone who had the honour of knowing you. You leave a loving family and many, many friends realizing the loss of you in their lives. I grieve with them. While you will live on in our memories know they will never replace your presence.

To my sister of another mother, I miss your face...

With ever lasting love,

Cheryl

Fade into earth - Haiku

Autumn has arrived

draining blood of life from veins

I fade into earth

Autumn departure signals

Time

seems to fly quicker

as geese take flight

heading south,

leaving us stranded

in their wake.

We gaze skywards,

not wanting

to believe the arial V

is a sign

of victory for them,

perhaps it is,

but not for us

left preparing

for the long

dreaded

winter ahead.

Stay with us

we call out

just awhile longer

in fields abundant of corn

yet...

autumns colours

signal their departure

and we sigh...

The Guardian has fallen

For centuries this tree witnessed the sorrow of families burying their loved ones. She was the guardian of the Old Burying Ground founded in 1816. Oh the tears that were shed in those hundreds of years for families yet few were shed when she was laid waste by a chainsaw.

The local paper (prodded by me) covered the fallen limbs as a result of a storm but was there such an outcry as witnessed when a scrub maple of 90 years was removed in a downtown park? NO is the answer. I'm on a rant as if you couldn't tell.

The sugar maple in the Old Burying Ground was perhaps 200 years old. It was strong and solid although a few limbs had been struck in the last three years and they fell, once again, in silence I am sure she could have been saved.  That is if this town had a decent restoration plan. However, if it doesn't happen in the core of town the blinders are pulled tight.

Will the tree be replaced? Don't hold your breath. Will the stump be ground? Hold your breath longer. Was the timber salvaged? Check the local dump. It saddens me that this tree, for all it has witnessed, was cast aside and town officials didn't give a care. ~sigh~

Who says toads don't like water

Eenie

Meenie

Minie

Moe

Eenie, meenie, minie, moe

catch a toadie by the toe.

If it screams let it go,

eenie, meeney, mnie, moe.

They say toads aren't fond of water however I disagree. Perhaps it's the unbearable heat and dry soil that is drawing them to the Pond. The frog population is down so I am quite content with toads.  :)