 Ann Edall-Robson Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience." #TheLifeOfAFriend #FarAwayFriends #OdeToFriendship #TheQuietSpirits #FriendsThatLinger #WritingPoetryAgain #NewFoundFriendship
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When we travel, whether it be an extended journey or a leisurely day trip, we are always on the hunt for a place we can stop for a break, have a cuppa, a snack or a meal and visit with owners, patrons, and friends. We have found three such places that need to be shared. All have been happenstance and all have become one of our favourites in no particular order. Each has a different menu and ambiance. All are welcoming and definitely need to be visited for your own taste test (in our opinion). HAYWIRED COFFEE HOUSE
Priddis View & Brew Bistro
Balzac Diner
Do you have favourite places you like to stop and eat at when you are out and about? We would love to hear about them so we can put them on our radar for a future road trip. Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience.” A while back I went out without my camera. No reason really other than I didn’t take it with me. Oh yes, there were moments I reached for it, and there were moments I cussed at myself for not dragging it along. Yet, at the end of my break away from my computer and my camera, I came home with vivid images stored in the gray matter. Let me see if I can show you what I saw. . . The pathway to the lake was drifted in places. Pushing through the already made tracks of those who had wandered before me wasn’t all that easy. For those with long legs and strides to match, the trek to the other side of these crusted barriers would be easy. For someone built close to the ground, like me, calf-deep becomes knee deep, and visible foot holes in the drifts are quite useless! Breaking my own trail, while not that easy either, was easier on the legs than trying to fit into what was left behind by others. I quickly discovered walking off the trail in the uncharted snow was the way to go. Not only that, it showed me some wispy skeletal plant life. Thorn spikes on brown, rounded seed heads of burdock. Exploded seed pods hovering at the top of frozen cattail sentinels. Here and there the bright red, freeze dried rose hips were bobbing on the ends of prickly wild rose bushes. The lake showed life had traversed its perimeter. Coyote tracks mixed with tiny indents where mice and birds had taken advantage of seed that covered the ground from the wind-whipped plants along the frozen water’s edge. My peripheral vision caught a glimpse of movement. A lone skater clearing the natural ice rink in a sheltered corner. A hockey stick waiting patiently in the drifted snow bank. Man’s best friend barking and running in circles around the human Zamboni. Laughter erupting, carried on the wind until it faded to nothing. The drifts on the trail gave way to the wind-swept, frozen, earthen floor. The warm weather of recent weeks had softened the dirt to allow rutted tracks to form and freeze to almost perfect shapes. Some filled with little pools of frozen water. Others empty and void of any sign of life other than the steps left behind and the imagination of who would have left them. Poplar leaves laying in wait to rot and return food to the earth. Frozen and still green where they had fallen beside their yellowed and browned speckled tree mates. I can hear the Canada Geese and I wonder if there is still some open water somewhere on the lake that is enticing them to sing their song from above. They don’t linger long, before moving onward in search of an unfrozen destination as there is nothing here for them. A brazen Magpie watches me. Cackling it moves closer to the path to see what I am about until a crow, floating on the wind, swings near the trail sending the cheeky magpie off to stalk someone else. The trail curves towards home. Here the trees are frosted and glistening in the sun. It reminded me of one of my outings from another winter's walk. Bits of fluffy snow floats from their settled spot on the needles. Cones sway in the top branches daring me to stand and gawk at them. They too will be become feed for some bird looking for a bit of sustenance in the continued cold. Camera . . . hmm, I guess I didn’t really miss having it along.  Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience."  Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience."  Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience."  Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience."  Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience."  Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience."  Today, the horses have nothing to say. It didn’t start that way, but as the day progressed their lack of eye contact while I leaned on the fence watching them, told me different. A blatant reminder my mind needed to settle. I wander, drawn to a spot where the sound of a frog chorus penetrates through the trees. The sun on my face, the breeze ruffling my hair, all speaking to me in volumes. Planting myself away from the voices, the grounding of my soul begins. Eyes closed, breathing softly, embracing the aroma of raw earth, the connection I need starts to ooze into my being. By ignoring me, the horses suggested my direction; but, it is Mother Nature who gives me guidance. The singing of the frogs in the background while I watch my first butterfly of the season looking for sustenance from flowers yet to bloom. Tiny birds chirping their throaty sounds, flitting from branch to branch before taking wing to return to I know not where. Walking through the trees the pungent smell of rain dampened leaves meets my senses; laying lifeless to the eye, yet giving nourishment to the land. I stroll back to the barn. The smells confined within the walls are comforting. A reminder of the journey I began decades ago when I knew someday, somehow, I would blaze my own trail. The creativity will come, it always does. The process of late, has been mired by my mind whirling like a dust devil’s journey across the prairie. The horses and the land have gifted me much on this day. How do you reconnect with your creativity? Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience." A busy few weeks resulting in accomplishments, re-acquaintances, and favourite times being shelved (for a while). Life does that to us every so often. Puts us in a state of hair straight back, get to hell out of my way, I’ve got stuff to do! My time hasn’t been quite that radical, but it certainly has left me with a good feeling simmering deep within. Writing the story for my novel, The Quiet Spirits, was by far the easiest part of the project. When it was done, I was sad. It was like I had to say, “See you around, old friend.” Then it struck me. This thing needs to be published. With that thought came a whole new get busy again “to do” list. Editing, beta readers, re-writes, meet with publisher, book cover, dedication, (A sequel?), and, and, and . . . The biggest thing wasn't determining when did I want to have this book in my hot little hands, but more importantly, when would it be accessible to the public? By the looks of the progress, I can safely say, The Quiet Spirits will be available this fall; and, might I add, it will make a great Christmas gift. So what does someone who writes do when they finish a book? I have to tell you, for me, lots! For starters, I have been penning my next book. Yet to be named and not related to The Quiet Spirits. My thoughts on this novel, is the first draft will most likely be finished before summer ends. Maybe. When will it be published? Who knows? When it feels like the right time to do it would be a safe answer.
So you see, even when the midnight oil is being burned, the candles are lit from both ends, and the hair is straight back, there is always comfort in the things we know, and especially in the things we love to do. Where do you find your solace when your life is in hair straight back mode? Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience." |
October 2023
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