 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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 Ann Edall-Robson Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience." #TheQuietSpirits #LoveOfMyLife
Gone are the days of Christmas in every room, dinner table overflowing with food and too many people to fit at one table. I am thankful that the some of the traditions are still intact and have not gone away. We enjoy them still, only on a smaller scale.Our hand-picked tree no longer arrives by bus, yes but, from the home property far away. Over the years our Christmas tree transitioned from one that needed a tall person to put the star on the top to one that sat quite nicely on the old desk, and this is the year of another change. The idea had simmered for a few months, the planning stage took a morning of sketches and calculating measurements. The making of our new tree had me rooting through the button jar, yes I still have one of those, finding the twine I wanted, digging through my leather craft bins and cutting branches from the yard. Once everything was gathered, the plan made a few detours before it was settled on the final design. Our Family Heritage Tree is made with love from the heart using simple items found here at home and adorned with decorations made by our children and myself. It includes some memory pieces like the balls that hung on our tree when I was a child and special ornaments that hold cherished memories of Steve and my Christmases. The lights are the only modern factor, but they too have been part of our Christmas Tree’s tradition for decades. Merry Christmas, Ann 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." It’s funny where ideas come from. As hard as we try, there are times when you can see the window is open, but the curtains have not been pulled. Try as we might, getting past those barricades to continue along a path of enjoyment is not always easy. And then, there is a moment, a vision, a conversation that ramps us up for the next leg of the journey. Before I left on a recent trip to Hawaii, my plan was to enjoy my daughter’s wedding to the fullest and find places that would inspire my writing. Places that would encourage the imagination to the surface and let the pencil speed across the blank pages. With multiple time changes throwing the body and mind into a state of, “Are we ever going to get there?” It wasn’t until the last half hour on the plane, when the land came into view, that the curtains finally flittered away. The days ahead gifted me with many opportunities to look through the parted curtains and gather much to keep the gray matter charged and motivated.
Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life "Capturing moments others may never get to experience." “You’re selling! Why?” “You’re not interested in it.” The young man turned away from his dad so he couldn’t see the hurt on his face and the tears in his eyes. “Is this why you were so adamant to send me away to school? So you could give our heritage away and not feel guilty because I’d have a career.” “Son, you always said you couldn’t wait to be gone from here.” He rested his weathered hand on the shaking shoulder. “Now there’ll be nothing to hold you and you won’t have to worry about taking over the ranch.” The gut wrenching reply that came next was rocked the older man to the core. “I need you to understand why I came home, dad. Why I turned down a high paying, heartless job. I came home because I wanted to be here with you. I wanted to be where I could raise my family, let the kids grow up the way I did, with respect, learning how to work and be proud of themselves and their accomplishments.” The young man’s eyes were locked on his dad’s face. Their eyes never wavered. “ The papers haven’t been signed and no money has traded hands. We can continue the traditions together. This is our home and has been for generations. Working together will keep it in our family, our heritage.” “You don’t think it’s too late?” “No dad, it’s not too late."  The younger generations that have wandered from their roots are starting to realize the benefits of the life they grew up with. More and more family farms and ranches are starting to disappear, but with sons and daughters returning to help, there is hope that traditions and western heritage that is the soul of the country will not only survive but will thrive. 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." |
November 2020
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