This is a repost from 2020, but the sentiment remains the same.
They shall grow not old,
as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them,
nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun
and in the morning
We will remember them.
from For the Fallen
~ Laurence Binyon
These pictures are here to entertainment, bring joy, and, if you wish, inspire you to create something with words or images. Whether that is a poem, …
Today’s #PictureOfTheDay and #writingprompt: 05/Sept/21
A mysterious passageway, courtesy of Stuart.
The Pride Parades have been cancelled for this year because of covid, but the week hasn’t. 🙂
I recently saw a sign that said “2020. Written by Stephen King. Directed by Quentin Tarantino.”
Apt, yes?
Well, yes and no. For all its tragedies, fears, stresses, economic disasters, fires. floods, storms, inconveniences and annoyances, 2020 could have been a lot worse. In fact, history has recorded quite a number of years that were much worse than this one. 1944 was the worst year of WW II; June 8, D-Day, saw the deaths of almost 7000 allied soldiers (British, Canadian and American) in that 24-hour period alone.
1918 was the start of the Spanish flu. That plague went on to kill 50 million people world-wide. Whole communities were wiped out.
And let’s not forget WW I. On August 22, 1914, 27000 were killed during The Battle of the Frontiers. That was a single day’s losses. In total, that war killed 1.35 million soldiers; that number doesn’t include civilian deaths.
I could give many other examples, but you get the idea.
In the scheme of things, 2020 just wasn’t that bad. In common with others, though, I did a lot of moaning and complaining. But really, I haven’t been that badly affected. It’s more precise to say that I’ve been inconvenienced.
I kept my job. I didn’t lose anyone to coronavirus. I had to stay locked up and quarantined for weeks, but Spouse and I are both introverts. It wasn’t really that difficult.
Given that situation, a spotlight has been focussed on some things to which we need to pay attention; it’s like we’ve been given a second chance. Let’s not blow it.
So in that spirit, here are some realisations, appreciations and habits I hope to take with me:
1. Respect for nature. We don’t need to spread ourselves over every single millimetre of this planet. There’s a lot of evidence to suggest that this is the attitude that lead to (probably) bat, snake and pangolin DNA combining to bring about coronavirus.
2. Mindful travelling. (https://mindfultravelco.com/5-steps-to-mindful-travel/). Trying to cram an entire continent into a 10-day package tour where the point is to post as many braggy photos to Instagram as possible? That’s not travel. To me, that sounds like a lot of gobbling and very little appreciation. Much of this type of travel is causing extreme damage to the very things people want to see. And the environmental injury is becoming enormous.
3. Solidarity. We’ve all been hit by this. The whole world. Focussing on our commonalities is much better than focussing on our differences.
4. We are a lot more capable than we have let ourselves become. We figured out some amazing, innovative, and environmentally friendly solutions to the coronavirus issues. And those vaccines! So amazing and so fast!
5. There are wonderful people from all walks of life who have stepped forward during this crisis. And sometimes, I was very surprised by who did (and who didn’t). For all we think we know people, we really don’t …
What do you think?
Entitled Watching You Watching Them, this photographer was gifted with an example of the bird he was studying right outside his cabin window.
The Cordilleran flycatcher is declining across western North America as the changing climate causes shrinkage of the riparian habitats (i.e. river and other freshwater corridors) along its migratory routes and on its wintering grounds in Mexico. In Montana’s Rocky Mountain Front, it typically nests in crevices and on canyon shelves. But one pair picked this remote research cabin instead, perhaps to avoid predation. The nest was built on the head of a window frame by the female. Both parents were feeding the nestlings, flying out to snatch insects in mid-air or hovering to pick them off leaves.
So as not to disturb the birds or attract predators to the nest, Alex Badyaev hid his camera behind a large piece of bark on an ancient spruce tree leaning against the cabin. He directed a flash toward the trunk, so the scene would be illuminated by reflection, and operated the setup remotely from the cabin. He captured his shot as the female paused to check on her four nestlings. Behind her—the cabin serving as a conveniently spacious blind—the biologist recorded his observations.
Happy Friday, everyone. 🙂
The vineyards of the Okanagan Valley are verdant and blowsy with green growing …
… and green globular wine grapes, tight with juice and flavour …
… unless they’re red. 🙂
Most of them will soon be ready for plucking. They will become lots of types of wine, both precious and humble, and everything in between.
Like us.
Greetings from the vineyards of the Okanagan Valley. 🙂
This is Skaha Lake in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia. I spent a lot of time there while on summer holidays.
It is very serene …
… and placid. Soothing and relaxing and exactly what water and sun and fresh air and nature can do for a tired human being.
A beautiful day in the neighbourhood.
Happy Tuesday. 🙂
The Salt River runs through the town of Fort Smith, NWT.
All is very green right now because recently, there has been a lot of rain.
The Salt River is not salty, but is named for the nearby salt plains. The plains can be found in Wood Buffalo National Park and are very attractive to the many types of animals who like to lick the salt that has worked its way up from deep inside the earth.
During the fur trading days, the salt was collected for seasoning. It could still be used for this purpose today.
Happy Independence Day to our American friends and greetings from the non-salty Salt River. 🙂
In the north, lilac takes a long time to bloom.
It’s July, yes, but these hardy blooms do arrive, even if late by southern standards.
I found this particular bush after a rain when their fragrance was particularly lush and heady.
Hardy they may be, but they spread their gaudy celebration of life with gusto.
Greetings from the lovely northern lilac. 🙂
The wild rose is the provincial flower of Alberta. But there are many of these lovely flowers everywhere, especially in the north.
They grow beside roads and in fields, splashing the green with their pretty pink, so cheery and fragrant.
That which we call a rose would by any other name still smell as sweet. 🙂 ~Shakespeare
In the Net! - Pictures and Stories of Life 