No Backtracking
"Each one has to find his peace from within. And peace to be real must be unaffected by outside circumstances." - Mahatma Gandhi 
White Rock, Ocean Park and Crescent Beach are sleepy coastal communities that trains waken. I've written a lot about the BNSF Railway into Canada from the US that ribbons the West Coast seaside, heading to terminals in Metro Vancouver with cargoes of coal and chemicals to load onto massive ships for export largely to China. Environmental and safety concerns abound, particularly since a long string of boxcars (sometimes stacked), and tanks, cut off beach access. In Crescent Beach, the train coming through can prevent residents from exiting the village sometimes for a half hour or more, a serious concern should an emergency needing an ambulance occur. My recent sighting of the train in White Rock and the Poets and Storytellers United prompt "body of water" inspired my poem Overload below, not only about trains but a metaphor for airways carrying the weight of the world's discourse. Water, tracks, the internet: all conduits. 
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For some, it’s about suntanning. For me, the seaside compels me to listen and feel my existence. The birds, the breeze, the nature I sense all around have their pitch‑perfect tempos. The universe is alive with meaning, and if you tune yourself to it, you can feel its music in your own heartbeat. But music does not feel, we do. Life feels, and so life becomes the source of meaning in the seemingly indifferent universe. Whatever lies beyond is keeping its curtains closed and its keys hidden. This, along with the Poets and Storytellers United prompts, "teeth, hammer and blooms" inspires my poem as I swing from being the snowman whose season is over still lingering, to an eagle flying. 
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Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Consumed By The Cloud
“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” - C.S. Lewis
The Cloud is deceptively, brilliantly, named but humanity again finds that what starts as a manageable useful tool can become overbearing and destructive. The Lewis quote from Poets and Storytellers United reminds me that the dreams of some fulfilled can be our nightmares and in waking hours take us down rabbit holes. It sounds dramatic and far less romantic to admit that our data is not resting on a nebulous Cloud. Rather, data is stored ofttimes in huge buildings that drain masses of water and electrical resources, non-stop humming loudly to the despair of neighbours. Wish I had a solution for this monster we feed as reliance on the digital grows to "lock box" our keepsakes, personal and business dealings and even our identities. Below is my poem and recent pictures I took on walks, to be stored, of course, on the Cloud. Currently, Canada has some 300 data centres and Google says 4,000 to 5,400 operational data centers are in the U.S., representing nearly half of all facilities worldwide.
Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters.
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Symphony Of Sensations
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Words Have Wings
"From the wide window towards the granite shore/The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying/
Unbroken wings ..." - from Ash Wednesday by T.S. Eliot 
The Ocean Park Hall that opened in 1926 was the perfect place to celebrate its 100-year-history this June. Outside were games, food and face painting. Inside, grainy photos were on display of days gone by, including of the original post office. Deemed the world's smallest at the time, the six foot by six foot building made it into Ripley's Believe It Or Not!. Nowadays, most messages are sent electronically on keyboards and hand written letters in the mail seem a luxury. My poem (at bottom) is an ode to the hand written letter, inspired in part by the Poets and Storytellers United prompt, the quote by T.S. Eliot, reminding that words have wings though they travel by different means and that even Eliot preferred a typewriter in the early 1900's to ink and pen. 
For clarity, above and below are digital reproductions of faded black/white photos. Mail arrived to the Ocean Park community via the railway by the shore and carried uphill. 
My poem in flowery font is from the heart, although not written by hand on paper.
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The Poets and Storytellers United prompt to think of "a time you surprised yourself" had me writing a poem (below) about unexpected resilience. We're tougher than we know and, even if broken, possibilities exist. I also thought of a woman I call Flower who two years ago passed away. I still walk by her front yard garden on my way to the local park and envision her bent over, weeding, watering and nurturing the foliage and flowers. She prettied the area with her steady hand and eye for beauty, bringing joy that outlasted her. Here are a few of her blooms and some from other gardens, as well as beach scenes, where we humans, the most multifaceted of beings, love to roam. 
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We know a lot but also remarkably little about existence: the how, what and why of it. That doesn't stop us from filling in the unknowns with stories that feel very real about Creation. Best guesses rush into every unanswered question and every detail invites its own analysis and definitions. Even with such inventive minds, it is hard to imagine how something can come out of nothing as it seemingly does so effortlessly each Spring. My poem ponders the mystery of how creativity blooms in the outer-inner worlds.
Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters.
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Surprise Mendings
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Tall Tales & A Spring Walk
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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| HOLD ONTO THE LIGHT |