Warm corner

Flame-coloured curtain, and a dog as dark as sin.

Light on a rainy day.

Mike Lake Trail

H and I drove up to Mike Lake Trail today as part of my twice weekly workouts required by the learn to run clinic that I joined recently. H is also preparing to run a half marathon in February, so it was a good workout for us both. The trail goes up all the way, but at a gentle grade (hence its name, Mike Lake Incline). We set off at a brisk walking pace and that got my heart pumping good. After about 50 minutes of walking the Incline Trail we took the Fire Access Trail, and that took the better part of an hour to negotiate. At first it was quite easy walking, the ground was springy and soft with fallen leaves. Then there were small gullies, easily negotiated. But after a short time we saw that there had been several minor landslides that virtually erased the hiking path in places -- no wonder there was an "ongoing ground stabilization" notice at the entrance to the trail. We had to pick our way gingerly on the sloping ground to avoid falling off; in places the drop was 10 meters, maybe more. Too late to retrace our route; we decided to go on, though I was quaking. Heights have never been my thing. Anyway, we made it through safely and the path widened again.

All this time the dogs were having a grand time, sniffing and bounding away and chasing each other. Occasionally Patsy would stop and look up at me, as if asking "What's taking you so long? What's so hard about this trail? Look how easy it is for me." Cheeky monkey.



The trail itself was quiet, we didn't meet a soul. The trees made a tall green canopy, and with the wind pretty high they made a soothing soughing sound. The air smelled fresh and ozonic.



H "communing" with Patsy.



Maggie had boundless energy.

Falling into Fall

It was a gorgeous, crisp autumn day yesterday, so H and I jumped on the car to do a little exploring in Coquitlam and Port Coquitlam, two districts near to Maple Ridge and potentially places we could see ourselves buying a house one day.

I scramble to find the words to tell you what a lovely day it was. Better writers than I have done so. All I can do is to say that the leaves were red and gold and russet, the air smelled of dried grass and a whiff of bonfires. That the river babbled on and fish swam by. That the beavers were still trying to drop trees along the lake side. And that it was a perfect day to give thanks for one's blessings.



As I write this, thousands of homes across Canada will be celebrating Thanksgiving. Myself, I have much to be grateful for too. Family, friends, my guy, health, well-being. I am grateful for the many years that have been granted to me so far and hope that there will be many more.

I was telling P yesterday that the past four decades of life, for both of us, have been very rich. Sure, there were losses along the way. But into each life, much as we struggle against it, some rain must fall. Rain has fallen. But it has served to strengthen, to encourage dreams, to foster love.

And days like yesterday, and a Thanksgiving like today, are days that remind us of our wins as well as losses, and all the dreams that, whether they come true or not, make a life that much richer and sweeter.

For my guy

Everybody in the house says HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

 

Including lazy Patsy who is reluctant to pose for the camera with me!