Pink
Some people think
That I am a dink,
on a rink, wearing pink,
with dirty dishes in the sink.
But in a blink
I could make a stink
and call them a fink
because that's what I think.
As I wear my mink
Down on the rink,
neither of them
the colour pink.
Maria Tuttle
Hiking the Gibson Trail,
on a cold, crisp, autumn day.
Making the kind of memories
that don't fade away.
Most leaves have fallen,
others cling on tight.
Colours of nature,
shine through,
brilliantly bright.
Reds and greys,
Browns and blacks.
Healing berries,
of the beautiful sumac.
Trees.
Showing their beauty,
Inside, and out.
Remembering old memories.
Creating new memories.
Flowers on a log.
Prettiest of them all!
Last weekend, my daughter and I spent a lovely couple of hours together, at the Wye Marsh Wildlife Centre carving stones.
Art in the Marsh – Introduction to Stone Carving. Under the instruction of local artist and teacher Lisa Harpell, our pieces of alabaster magically turned in beautiful little sculptures.
Carving alabaster, first using rasps, following with numerous grades of wet sandpaper, the colours were pulled out of our pieces of rock.
It was, at the same time easier than I expected, and more difficult than I expected.
Definitely something I will do again.
So glad things are starting to open up again. In person, is so much more rewarding than a Zoom meeting.
Raindrops in the forest,
upon a wilted leaf.
The freshness reinforces
everything, I believe.
Ashes to ashes,
dust to dust.
Return to the earth,
everything must.
And into the air
up in the sky.
On into Heaven,
go you, and go I.
Raindrops in the forest,
upon a wilted leaf.
The freshness reinforces
everything I believe.
Maria Tuttle
I love the colour orange.
Prehaps it’s because I’m Dutch, and orange is Holland’s national colour.
Prehaps it’s because, as a teenager, I went to see the movie, Clockwork Orange, with a girlfriend, and we laughed until we cried.
Prehaps it’s because September 30th, 2021, marked the first National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, honoring the survivors of the Residental School system.
Prehaps it’s because orange is the colour of fall, my favourite time of year. From green, to red, to yellow, to orange.
Prehaps is because orange is the colour of campfires. The orange flames, flickering, fluttering, warming the air.
Prehaps it’s because orange is so predominant in the early morning, and late evening skies. Lining the clouds with a beautiful glow.
Prehaps it’s because orange is the colour of Halloween. The happy faces, of candy filled tummys, yelling ‘Trick or Treat, Trick or Treat!’
Prehaps it’s because of the orange at the bottom of a Christmas stocking. The orange slices at a child’s baseball game. That tall glass of cold orange juice at the breakfast table.
Prehaps it’s because my favourite Farmers Market is closing for the season, which for me, officially marks the end of summer, that has me feeling a little Orange.
Hangin' in the forest,
it's where we love to be.
With a couple of our favourite people,
talking to the trees.
Flowers of the forest floor,
soon they won't be here anymore.
They'll be covered with the winter snow,
awaiting springs warm, sunny glow.
A nice walk in the forest,
breathing the air of the trees.
Treading carefully over roots,
photographing bumblebees.
Paths of rocks.
Paths of roots.
Paths of trees,
with autumn leaves.
People from here.
People from there.
The people are mine,
wherever they are.
On top of the beautiful hills of the Georgian Peaks Ski Resort,
overlooking the Bay's cool, blue waters.
I skied here a few times,
a long time ago.
Twisted my ankle on a first run,
skied the rest of the day.
Walked with crutches,
the rest of the month.
I love discovering places where the food is great, and the ambiance entertaining.
Those descriptive lines, spoke to my heart and I just had to drink the beer.
None of us ordered this dish, but it made for interesting conversation.
Carrying my basket, with everyone else brandishing sharp, little knives; knives to clean cut mushrooms from their roots, we traveled down my little forest path, and into the Simcoe County Forests in search of the Honey Mushroom.
Old friends, teaching us new skills, as we ventured out mushrooming for the first time.
Foraging in the forest, we have done in early spring for wild leeks and fiddle heads. This was our first foraging for mushrooms. Other than the morels and puffballs, that magically appear on our lawn every year.
When researching recipes, and the information that accompanied them, I came to understand the warnings of concerned friends when we told them we were going mushrooming. So we ventured on the safe side, and boiled the Honey Mushrooms before they were sautéed in oil. Thereby eliminating any health risks.
The end result was a delicious side dish, one that we will enjoy every fall, after a day of foraging in the forest.
Looking at the World
Looking at the world,
through rose coloured glasses.
As the winds, and the clouds,
roll by.
Like thoughts, and ideas,
they make smooth passes
My feelings;
like dots in the sky.
Surrounding yourself pleasantly,
is difficult sometimes.
The flowers, and the trees,
aren't always in rhyme.
My expectations are like chimes,
in what the world finds fair.
So different is the light,
that my daydreams share.
Maria Tuttle, September 2021.
Groovy Tales of a Well Adult 