Who knows?

Election day in Canada, and who knows what the result will be.

The flag out in the field holds its own foggy prediction, encouraging my hope -- that even the wind appears to be sending it to the left.

We'll see what tonight's results reveal.

Quite the pair!

I love these two Buddhas, sharing a laugh. They look to me like the epitome of what friendship means.

Yet today isn't a day when I'm celebrating Buddhism. Rather, I'm thinking about friendship. This is partly because a group of longtime friends celebrated a big birthday last weekend. It's also because today marks the birth date of Eleanor Roosevelt, a best friend to one of my heroes, Amelia Earhart.

The two of them shared many values, especially their vision of full equality for women. They also both hoped for peace, yet another goal I continue to hope for.

Best of all, they shared many good times, and the joy of flying was part of that.

I suppose, in addition to wanting to celebrate Eleanor, I'm getting excited at the thought of the tv show that's coming up just over a week from now. When I was in Kansas this summer, a crew from National Geographic was doing interviews and filming key persons in Atchison during the Amelia Earhart Festival. I suspect that my mentor and friend Louise Foudray should have something to say during that presentation. I sure hope she hasn't wound up on the cutting room floor. To see a preview of the program scheduled to air on October 21st, follow this link -- then scroll down to the words, "Expedition Amelia" for a sneak peek at what's in store.

But now, here's to Eleanor, and to long lasting friendships, wherever and when we may find them. Something to be grateful for always, but maybe especially on this Thanksgiving weekend.

Finding beauty

I'll admit to often finding beauty in odd places, spots where many people might just walk past. That was the case with this colourful assortment of autumny leaves, strewn across the stairwell outside my local library. I'd left my camera in the car, and decided I had to go back for it, as I knew the colours would fade or someone would come along and sweep them away. And yes, I realize they're placed sideways, but there's something I like about the unbalanced balance of the image that way.

Yesterday, with no camera in hand (I was driving, so not allowed, a good thing) I was struck by the sight of a straggly 'v' of geese flying across the afternoon's blue sky.

And then, beside me was a field of pumpkins, looking smallish but bright orange, all aglow with the promise of Thanksgiving and Halloween.

Strange, perhaps, but I love finding beauty in the world, especially when so many aspects of contemporary life seem to insist on being ugly. Better, I find, to look for the bright spots which mostly turn out be elements of nature. Yet another aspect of beauty to consider and maybe meditate on.

Time to listen

This week has illustrated that it's time for politicians to start listening to the people.

The photo is actually from last Friday, the day this week of Climate Action began. I happened to be in Victoria, where the streets around the Legislature Buildings were blocked off to all traffic (including public transit vehicles).

I didn't even try to get into the city to participate today. This post will have to suffice as my 'action' for the day.

It took several years of protests in the '60s (and into the '70s) for government to get the message that the war in Vietnam had to end, but eventually, those who were protesting were heard. I can only hope that with so many people taking to the streets again, those in power will listen. Especially with an election looming in less than a month, the time seems not only right, but urgent.

Water, precious water

Somehow I don't think that it was planned, but it feels right to have World Rivers Day in the midst of this week of Climate Change Action.

Today's photo isn't, I suppose, actually a river, but a tributary to one, so I hope it counts. It's called Early Winters Creek, a name I quite love -- not named after any person, but after the climate of the region. And it feeds into the Methow River, a site that features in my previous post.

I like to think of rivers and streams as the arteries and capillaries of the Earth. The life force flowing onward, always to the sea.

Later tonight will be the Autumn Equinox. Here in the Pacific Zone, it arrives just after midnight. Maybe it will reveal itself in some special dream.

In case you like the thought of listening to a river today, here's a little video featuring the sound of rushing water. The camera work is pretty erratic, but in this case, it's the sound that matters. Enjoy.

Poetry en plein air

One of the many pleasures of travelling through the Cascade Mountains in Washington state is stopping at Washington Pass for a stroll along the paths there. And one of the wonderful discoveries there -- beyond the fabulous views -- is the fact that there are two poems posted along the trail. The one above, "Silver Star" is from William Stafford's chapbook, The Methow River Poems. The other, "A Valley Like This," also by Stafford, is from the same collection.

But these two are only part of a group of seven of Stafford's poems posted at locations along the river.  Apparently, they were commissioned by the Forestry Service in 1993. I've yet to find the others, but plan to seek them out next time we visit the Cascade Loop.

Poetry seemed to be in the air, as even the rangers' station encouraged visitors to create poems of their own.

The display was simple -- just a sign which included the reminder that Gary Snyder and Jack Kerouac (and I'm pretty sure, Jack Spicer and Sam Hamill) found inspiration from time living in the woods.

Beside the sign was a table with some cutouts of 'foresty' words, but what a delight to find them.

And me, of course I'm wishing more of such public poetry would show up around here. There are some small haiku-like writings on rocks at nearby Blackie Spit at Crescent Beach, so I suppose I should be content.

What's yer sport?

Watching all the wonderful tennis this weekend (yes, I've become a convert -- I used to think it was the equivalent of watching a game of 'pong' with its hypnotic blips) has made me wish I were more of an athlete. But like they say, if wishes were horses, etc.

About the closest activity I can claim as a kind of sport is my twice-weekly sessions of deep water running at my local pool. The photo above holds a rack of flotation belts for participants in the class. Only, I'm the odd one out who doesn't choose to wear one.

I'm not sure whether it's the 'built-in flotation belt' I seem to wear around my middle, whether I'm in the water or out, or whether I'm just more buoyant than many people are. Whatever the reason, I don't choose to wear a belt. And since the activity is one that I enjoy, I manage to remain fairly faithful, year-round.

Maybe in my next life, I'll do something requiring more training and skill. But for now, I'll just keep runnin'...