A tiny tale…

A Tiny Tale … from The Garden …. ©Aliana Alani 2018

 

This tiny tale comes from The Garden. It is affectionately called: BULB TO BULB – a tiny Autumn Discourse.

autumn leaves

Before I go into it, let me just say this about that. The weather – as it can so often be relied upon to do – is changing. At least here in the land of maple syrup. Not so much if you happen to be on the East Coast, nor if you happen to be on the fringes of the West. But if you happen to be anywhere East of the West or West of the East, let alone in the mid of the Middle, well then, changing, it is. And not, from my point of view, for the better. Why? COLD. I am aware that it is an almost existential part of life in the country in which I live, but how many people do you know who actually cherish it? Okay, some like it, some put up with it, some even snowshoe in it – but cherish? Exactly.

So, it’s getting colder, already. There have even been flakes of white stuff spotted in the mid of the Middle. And the Rockies, those towering peaks of magnificence are currently blanketed with it. It has even had the audacity to flutter and fall over the vineyards of the Okanagan. I mean, is nothing sacred?!

Therefore, it seemed appropriate that I write some little diddy (that’s a tiny tiny) to acknowledge, the moment. I might have let it go, had it, the diddy, not woken me up at 4 in the morning. Lacking the courage to roll over and go back to sleep, I dutifully wrote it down.

And so, without further adieu (don’t you just love that word), here is:

autumn landscape

 

BULB TO BULB – a tiny Autumn Discourse

 

“It’s that time again,” said the Tulip Bulb, heaving a sigh. “I suppose.” Replied the Daffodil Bulb, somewhat distracted. “Under the ground then.” The Tulip Bulb added, as much a statement as a question. The Daffodil Bulb answered, rather sagely. “The Inner Earth, most likely.” “Cold there, I imagine.” Said the Tulip, remembering. “Soon enough.” Chimed the Daffodil. Pondering that, the Daff of Bulb added, “Brought your thermals, have you?” Beaming, the Bulb of Tulip said, “Got them specially! Guaranteed to keep a bulb cozy in the damp of dark.” “Brilliant. Frightfully clever of you. Know where I can get some? I almost froze my skins off last year.” “No worries,” said the Bulb of Tulip, “I’ve got extra. I’ll share.” “AH,” said the Daffodil Bulb, “you’re a good friend, so you are.”

And with that, they wrapped themselves up all nice and cozy in the very centre of those luscious thermals and began to softly slowly plunge into the earth to await the coming of the snows.

“Spring time, then.” Said the Tulip, its voice receding as it sank. “In Spring.” Came the muffled voice of the Daffodil.

And then they could be heard no more.

 

THE END … no, not really.

 

first snow

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Merry Christmas

May the true spirit of Christmas touch your heart and bless your day – and may love and harmony prevail wherever you may be.

Merry Christmas – Happy Holidays

Peace on Earth

 Blessings to you all!

 

Prayers abound…

TO ALL THOSE IN CANADA in flood-stricken areas, our prayers are with you.

To Quebec, the Gatineau, Ottawa, the Okanagan of BC, and regions in the Maritimes experiencing flooding – stay strong, stay as dry as you can, and know that we are with you in spirit as you go through this difficult time.

May the waters recede, the rains lessen, the lands dry. May kindness and caring prevail for you wherever you are. May strangers and neighbours be your helping hand, now and during the days of clean up ahead and those of building anew.

I am reminded of the lotus flower that births forth out of the depths of the watery mud to be share its magnificence, serenity, and beauty with us all.

Even now, in the midst of devastation, such birthing is possible. May it be yours.

lotus flower

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

 “The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” …W.B.Yeats

shamrocks for st patrick's day

It’s St. Patrick’s Day – so go on now, celebrate The Green, raise a glass to the isle, toast the impossibly possible, dance with good friends, delight in great moments, and whatever you do, don’t forget the magic – because the magic is so much of what makes The Green, and life itself, truly special.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY EVERYONE!

shamrock

Friends…

Some waft through your life like bits of sky cloud – here one moment, gone the next. Their impact is pleasant, perhaps important, maybe even dazzling.

Others linger over tea and a few biscuits of time, even a life experience or two. You toast a year together, perhaps another, and they are gone; their names etched delicately in the treasure chest of your heart.

But there are some whose presence mingles like starlight and something magical is brewed within the tempest teapot we call life. The halls of memory ring with laughter and poignant moments, kindness and bursts of wisdom, and of course, because how could good friends be without this, love. These are the ones who never quite leave, though time or distance might test the threads. Their well of caring is deep and whether you speak a thousand times a day or only an email now and then, they are with you (as you are with them) through the celebrations and the challenges. They are the jewels that linger.

I have been blessed with meeting many people in my life. I have also been blessed with friends. Like most, I suppose, there are but a few who become the lingering legends. They are what I lovingly call the elite circle in my life, and they are small in number.

One of them recently left to ride the skies and dance with the angels.

His name is Bill Murphy. And this is my oh-so-tiny way of honouring his presence and now his memory.

Bill is/was from the land of sun and sand, heat and light, an Australian. Like many Aussies I’ve known, he went tracing his roots back to Ireland, and like some, never quite left. We met in The Green. Bonded by a love of sun, wrapped in a mist of Ireland, sometimes wondering what the hell we were doing there, often marveling at its depth of magic, longing to feel the heat again, we became friends.

Bill had a twinkle in his eyes that made you wonder, as though he knew something delicious you might want to know. He was funny. He was wise. He had been gifted with the ability of insight, which he used gently. He was my introduction to Australia, a land I came to love, and I will always be grateful for that.

Bill was a generous man with a huge heart, and like many whose hearts are big, it was often fragile. Life challenged it like it challenges us all. As a friend, to me one of the greatest blessings in his life is that he finally found the love he had been searching for and the family he had always longed to have. Jacqueline is a jewel and they are beautiful together.

Bill travelled the slippery slopes of lymphoma for a couple of years or more. It wasn’t his first illness but it proved the toughest. There were moments when it looked like he’d come out of it (I confess I never quite ‘saw’ him leaving). He made it home for Christmas – my last email from him was of a triumphant man having been able to eat a Christmas dinner with his family!

Bill left us on January 3, 2014.Bill at the barbie

In Australia, they call a friend – a mate. Bill Murphy was my good mate and I shall miss him.

G’day to you Bill – enjoy that light, and buckets of thanks for the moments and the memories. Love ya!