A Particular Bear

Have you ever wondered at the part we play in the overall workings of the Universe? One Christmas my part became clear.

It began during that little lull after Thanksgiving before the first of December. Those few days when most minds were focused on sales and mark downs. My job was to answer phones at a busy multi-store florist but the phones didn't ring much during this time. Based in the central store, I worked a switchboard and answered for all the stores. When the phone finally rang a miracle began to unfold.

On the phone a gentleman caller was looking for a toy bear. A particular toy bear.

Plush toy animals were often included with our floral orders but this request was different. He was not looking for the traditional furry teddy but a bear made of cloth... and plaid. Not in a traditional pose either. This bear was lying on it's tummy arms outstretched, with snowy white cheeks and a brightly colored plaid body. He was looking for a very particular bear.

This particular bear had been included with a floral arrangement sent to the caller who wanted to buy another one. I put him on hold and went to check store stock.

Our purchasing department only bought bulk loads of plush critters. It was never the same twice. We could not order a specific bear so finding a copy of the little plaid bear depended on what was in stock. On hand were bears of all kinds... giant ones, little ones, white ones, brown ones, fluffy ones, even pink and blue ones but there was no plaid bear. I passed on the bad news and said goodbye.

Moments later a second phone line rang. It was my gentleman again. I explained to him about the switchboard, took his phone number and promised to check with all three of our stores for the little bear.

As promised  I checked the stock in our other stores. I talked with purchasing and searched order catalogues. Nothing... nada... no way did I find a little plaid bear. I sadly informed the caller but promised to keep looking. I pinned his phone number on my notice board and went back to work.

The busy Christmas season burst upon the store. Phones rang non stop. Soon my wall board was covered with little notes of things to do or orders to check and so on. The phone number became completely covered and forgotten.

Christmas eve arrived on a Saturday giving the retail industry one more day of sales. With deliveries no longer possible phone sales stopped, my day loomed long and slow. I passed my time tidying the front of the store. In doing so I checked the plush animal display.

But something was very odd about the display.

Every shelf was a jumble of plush toys, on which were piled dozens of critters. That is... every shelf except one. In the center of the display one shelf remained completely clear.. except for a lone bear... a plaid bear.

My thoughts scrambled to remember... plaid bear... now just where did I know that from? It suddenly hit me. I raced to the office bulletin board. pulling off notes pinned on notes until I found the one I wanted, then I called.

I apologized for the intrusion on this Christmas Eve and gave the reason for my call.

A short while later my caller and his wife arrived in the store. I showed him the little bear but it was only then I noticed that one white cheek was smudged. Horrified I tried to apologize but when I looked up both had eyes filled with tears. 

Its perfect they said... this is OUR bear.

The couple explained. In November they had adopted a little girl. A sweet child who had a terrible abusive life prior to coming to them. She was withdrawn, unhappy and very afraid. To celebrate this adoption, they had been given a bouquet of flowers from our shop with the plaid bear included. The little girl immediately attached herself to the bear and they were inseparable. 

That is... until the family took a trip.

Somehow, the little bear became lost. The child was inconsolable. Her new parents had tried everywhere to find a replacement but to no avail, until today. This bear was an exact copy down to the little smudge on the right cheek.

Somehow out of the chaos and confusion of the holidays, a little plaid bear had found it's way back to someone who needed and loved it. On that day a broken child started to heal. On this day too my role in this Christmas miracle became clear. 

On this day a power greater than all those involved was at work in the form of one particular bear.

Music To My Ears

I live in the city. A small city but still city. I am surrounded by concrete, by cars, by people, by noise and by all that city entails.

I am a creature of the country. My spirit lives in natural places... in open sun filled fields and forests deep and dark, in pasture and in ploughed earth... in canyons, in mountains and sky. I am not city, I don't belong.

My spirit longs to escape and be free once more, to find home again in nature and to shed the mantle of city dweller.

Yet here in this city I found a place. A secret garden of sorts but not secret and not a garden. Just a place which has become a small escape for a trapped soul.

My city is dissected by power lines, huge high tension towers linked together with wires which seem to stretch on forever. Each row of towers feeding the ever hungry electrical grid and connecting my city with endless other cities. 

Beneath these towers runs a corridor that is left natural. Beneath is a greenbelt... an area left wild and uncivilized. It is an area of vibrant life in an otherwise concrete world. Crisscrossed with foot paths worn deep into thick grasses, grasses which are mowed but never dominated by man. It is a mini haven for man and beast.

The area directly underneath each tower reflects an individuality of spirit. Some have large tree-like shrubs growing beneath them. Others are smothered by vines while many more are bowers for Burdock's, Queen Anne's lace and Sumac's. Beneath some, are grasses, unkept and wild as nature would have it. Left to grow tall and wave in every breeze. 

The green corridors go for miles in a living tapestry. Weaving between and behind homes, beneath large apartment condo buildings, around schools and beneath roads along tunnels. It is a green ribbon through grey, it is a place where the soul can inhale. A place to breathe deeply of the land, of nature and the very essence of life.

Yet humanity is everywhere. Hidden behind the old growth trees along the corridor edges, lies the city. Hidden behind the tall reeds lining a small stream lie homes. Hidden behind the bushes, shrubs and smaller trees which create a maze through which to walk, are the vestiges of humanity.

It is a tiny woodland park. Filled with squirrels, with birds and with animals both wild and leashed. It is a haven for those with dogs, a place to let them run free for a few moments to let them just be dogs. A place to stretch their legs and yours as well... a place for them to smell the scents of nature, yet be able to return to civilization at their masters command.

I walk this secret garden rain or shine. Sometimes the sky is grey and dark. It is then the garden becomes quiet and soft... with the small noises from the brush, like gentle scratches on velvet, barely loud enough to reach the ear. Yet just enough to let the ear know that life always lives in that brush.

Sometimes the sky is blue and filled with light and joy. The green grass leaps at the eye, almost shimmering with the glow. Birds sing harmonies to join the humming you seem unable to stop from bubbling within as you walk. The shear glory of it all wraps you in a sunny warmth.

In spring and summer the corridor is brilliant in an ever changing medley of greens... some tender and delicate and others a deep dark hunter but all filled with life. 

In autumn it is a blaze of color. Yellows, orange, scarlet... deep dark reds now blended with the vibrant greens. The place becomes transformed in a kaleidoscope of color.

Yet the beauty is fleeting and as the days become colder and darker, the color slowly gives way to a more formal spectrum. Waving grasses turn soft beige, leaves turn from reds and yellows to rust, vines become brown. Soon the earth is revealed, as grasses die and foliage falls from shrubs. Rich dark soil flaunts itself to the sun for brief moments and then disappears into the shadows again. It is a somber time as the land prepares to hibernate, resting for the seasons to come.

Winter arrives to create a wonderland of shapes. Soft mounds were once bushes, trees are draped and the pathways are now narrow corridors through foot deep snow. On sunny days the snow is iridescent... blindingly so. On grey days the snow brightens an otherwise darkened world. Shapeless forms, depth-less passages and endless white are all that exist.

Yet snow reveals life. Tiny tracks appear... birds, mice, rabbits tread softly through it, revealing the struggle for life. Sometimes the white reveals a demise as well.

Slowly the cycle changes, white disappears and soft browns appear. Browns disappear and a hint of green shows. Soon green dominates and with it brilliant bursts of color everywhere. 

Beneath the towers, nature is in control. Life has found a way and goes on through all the seasons, through the lives of man and beast. This is complete harmony... and a harmonic symphony is played the year round.

This is music to my ears.

A Moment In Time

Today is Remembrance Day. Today I experienced a moment in time.

I was walking in the open space beneath the multi-story metal towers which carry electricity to my city. This corridor of green crisscrossed the city, creating a narrow strip of natural wooded area winding through concrete and asphalt. The day was beautiful... sunny, warm and filled with life. I stripped down to just a thin sweater with my jacket tied around my waist. The birds were tweeting (none with cell phones) and the air was sweet. 

Few people were around and the morning sun appeared to shimmer and dance over a still vibrant, green grass. The scent of leaves, freshly fallen, filled the air with this delightful autumnal fragrance. 

A loud noise resonated above my head, the sound caught in the canyon of trees and magnified. I looked up to see an incredible sight... a World War II airplane, a large grey colored WWII bomber plane. It was flying low, light reflecting off it's nose windows, and slowly crossing my horizon. 

I had a moment in time and imagined it was 70 plus years ago. I was in France or England and war was all around me. I thought how could something as beautiful as this plane be both a harbinger of death and a savior of the world as well. The fly over only lasted a few moments and as the sound faded so did the plane, growing smaller and smaller as it passed. 

I glanced at my watch and it was almost 11 am... that moment in time of such great significance to history. A time and a date set aside to remember those terrible wars of the past. I said a silent prayer for those who provided me with this moment, for all those who had to courage to protect my world and indirectly to protect me. Thank you I whispered to those unknowns, thank you. 

A Spirit Freed

I had a beautiful moment today and just had the need to share.
  

Today I scattered the ashes of my beloved brother Brian. He actually passed some time ago but my family could not come to terms with where his ashes should go. One day last fall my sister knocked on my door and said "here he can stay with you" and left his ashes with me... and he did stay... while I tried to figure out how to lay him to rest.
 

Today a friend took me to a lovely park in the small community called Lowville which is north of where I live on Lake Ontario. There were few people about and it was cold and grey to start but the sun eventually shone through... there was a large rushing stream, I think Bronte Creek, which wove through the park and lots of forest trails to walk.
 

We walked a long way, deep into the woods but alongside the water and I found the perfect place. Below a noisy set of rapids was a large quiet pool. Steep canyon walls rose on the far side which were draped with maples, evergreens and other trees, many of which had begun the fall transformation. I walked to the edge of the quiet pool and slowly scattered his ashes into the waters. My brother had always been an outdoor person and his passion in life was fishing. At that moment a large fish jumped from the water and splashed it's way upstream.
 

My friend and I were both startled at the fish and thrilled to see something as wild and free as this creature. I looked back to where his ashes settled into the water to watch as some floated out into the stream and were swept away. Some did settle to the edge of the pool and a small school of minnows appeared and swam over the spot.
 

It was then we noticed the footprints in the mud of the stream, probably there all along but it was only then we saw them. Leading from the spot in the water where the scattered ashes settled, they led out into the deeper waters. The sun chose to shine in full force at that moment and the tree we stood under suddenly rained leaves. There was no breeze but the leaves fell in a golden shower on us. My thought was that my brother's spirit was now free and that he was telling me of his joy. My friend said it was the most spiritual moment she ever experienced and I had to agree. I had been terribly sad, reliving my pain at his loss and now I was filled with a wonderful joy.
 

I truly believe in something after death... not necessarily religious but something... I now know that to be true... for I believe our spirit is a forever thing and my sadness over the loss of a loved brother left me completely. He was free to move on and with that I too was freed to move on with life. Goodbye my dear brother... may your journey in this new life be filled with joy.

My Happy Birthday

I am sitting here thinking. I know what you are thinking... that my thinking is something to think about.

Well a milestone approaches which inspires all this thought. A milestone that isn't metric with no u-turns allowed.

On April 1st it's my birthday. Please bring all rocking chairs to an upright position.

I have been looking back on my life... and... have decided to forgo kicking the bucket for a while longer.

Oh sure I find myself pleasantly surprised that I made it this far. Who would have known. I am grateful too for I've had one of a kind opportunities and life experiences. All unique to me... remember the time I was bitten by that black widow spider... remember when the car crashed... remember when I was bucked off my horse to land face first in the mud... yes remember all those times when I was given second chances.

All part of the journey that made up my life to date. I say to date because I'm not finished. There are more spiders (get out the spray), more cars and many more horses with my name on them and a few more things besides.

I've met people on this life journey, good and bad, who enhanced my life. People I've both loved and hated and who both loved and hated me. 

I've met many animals which gave me great joy and mountains of manure. I've met many places up close and personal, places I escaped from... or too.

I can only thank God, as I believe God to be, for the wonders of my life. I've done some deep thinking about spirituality, about what this life is all about and with this thinking (I used a lot of aspirin) I formed a belief that works for me. I don't ask anyone to believe as I do... yet... wait for the book to come out first.

I've let organized religion slowly fade from my life, learning the lessons from it that I was meant to learn but moving on. I deeply believe in God but as a universal entity, for us all in every form we take, whether our teachings are Judisim, Christianity, Muslim, Buddism, Hinduism or Born Again Holy Rollers. We are all members of this universal world. That is my belief... film at eleven.

This change in thinking guided me through the loss of two special men in my life. Each had something to contribute to who I am now and with the passing of each, this new philosphy eased my sense of loss.

I also look back on the other people who came and went throughout my life. Family, friends, co-workers... each giving me something special, even if that was only indigestion. Some merely passed through and some stayed. I am so humbled to have been given such love and friendship. Please don't send a bill.

I have been blessed with an unconventional life, given the opportunity to follow dreams and not be a product of conformity. I am blessed again with the new phase about to begin. I am entering a time of wonderful creativity with a new, incredible world opening before me. I'm so glad I have a credit card to pave the way!

I still find life exciting, filled with wonder at new things. I am sad too that we (referring to mankind) haven't taken care of this wonderful place and sadder still that there is nothing I can do to change this except with my small steps. Surely someone can invent a larger Swiffer to clean up the world's mess.

I have often wondered at what my grandmother (Gram) saw in her lifetime and even what my parents saw in theirs and wonder if they went through the same thought process as I am doing now. Were the kids of yesterday as bad as the kids of today? Was the music just as loud? Did they get up as many times in the night to use the bathroom?

All this has made me appreciate even more the little things that I see. Things like the array of color in the produce department at the grocery store or the way the sunlight reflects on the lake. Like the muffled softness of a snow storm or the sweet melody of a Robin's song. Things like the Rollback sales at Walmart. The more the world advances, the more I feel the simpler world around me.

I have always had special abilities to commune with the natural world (and I'm not even a nudist.) A special awareness of nature, of plants and especially animals. I have always had a connection with the world beyond what we see as reality. These are special gifts from the universe but seen only as burdens at first. It took time to learn their value and I guess if you think about it, all of XX years. Obviously I was gifted but not in the gifted class.

So why all this thought and at this moment? Am I regretting times which have passed or fearing times to come? I don't think so... I am simply looking a my life as if it were a book, thumbing through the different chapters, re-reading the story that is me and appreciating the fact that it is not science fiction.

I simply wanted to thank the universe for the blessing... of being me. 

I would also like to celebrate my birthday with all who have made my life what it is... thank you and happy birthday to all! Your gift is in the mail.

Winter Ballet

I needed to go to the bank.

My landlord, for some unknown and probably not a good reason, demands cash for rental payment. Carless, I headed out for the long walk to the bank. 

A cold breeze snapped at my face like a wet towel at the beach, bringing a blush of color to my cheeks. It's long fingers reached into my coat looking for any breach in it's protection. It was cold. It was darn cold.

I felt exhilarated.

The cold brought my tired soul to life. I sucked the crisp air deep into my lungs and walked along briskly.  Snow boots protected my feet and I trudged through the snow with feet warm and snug in pillow soft comfort.

Hatless, I enjoyed the freedom of my hair blowing in the wind. It fit my mood, giving me a sense of independence. Man, or in this case woman, against nature, on an equal basis.

Leaving the protected sidewalks which were buffered by homes and high rise buildings, I walked along the lake shore, watching ice thick waves slapping encrusted shores.  

Living at the western end of Lake Ontario where the lake narrows as it curves, the distant shores are usually visible across the water. Usually it was a dark horizon caught between two blues. But not today.

Today everything was grey in fifty shades and more. The words "lake effect snow" had meaning now as I watched a storm pirouette over the lake water. It's fringe was edged a white grey but it's center was a charcoal swirl. The storm twirled away from the distant shore heading due east, in complete unrestricted abandon.

As I walked I encountered others strolling in the sunshine and cold. I smiled at each and said hello... happy new year... good day! Some smiled and responded back while others seemed startled as they emerged from intense, internal worlds. Others gruffly mumbled a reply, looking down to avoid personal contact while they hurried on.

I reached the bank, entered, and with accounts settled, headed home. Outside the storm had moved closer to shore. It now skimmed the shoreline very close by. I could almost touch it's grey damask. The sun disappeared and snow streamed in ribbons of white. 


The wind tore at my coat and lashed my face. My skin stung with the sharpness of the cold and with tiny ice pellets. The freedom of a hatless head was now regretted.

As suddenly as it came, the storm reversed and twirled due south to center lake. Here the dark grey mass twirled as it blithely crossed international borders at will. Then, just as suddenly, it raced back.

I huddled deep within the hood of my coat and bent myself to face the wind, right arm raised to keep the hood from blowing off. Gone were the greetings to passersby, everyone too deep into the business of keeping warm to acknowledge others. 

The frigid lashings were endured, block after block. Everything was a blur of white. At last I reached the safe haven of home.

As I opened the door to my building, the sun appeared once more. The storm was gone. Hummingbird like it hovered only a moment here and there in it's perpetual dance. Sometimes it raged in a primitive dark harmony, sometimes it danced lightly over the water and sometimes it tickled the land in delicate delight. Never in one place long, forever on the move but always performing nature's winter ballet.
 


 

Thanks Mom

This morning my world changed.

Last evening I went to bed in the grey world of early winter. Gone were the brilliant leaves of fall, the beds of flowers, the soft breezes of summer. Last night I went to sleep in a world of drab.

I awoke to a brightness in my room. A shimmering light that was pleasant but unfamiliar. Intrigued I climbed out of the warm comfort of my bed and went to the window. A sea of white stretched as far as I could see.

It was beautiful.

A thick blanket of snow had, and was still, falling. Big flakes cascade from the sky. Six inches have fallen but enough to change the construction site next door into a world of mysterious shapes. Enough to change the rusted garbage dumpster into an intriguing vision of beauty. Enough to change the drab of my world into a winter wonderland.

The wind came. Weaving its way between the apartment buildings of my complex and whipping snow into streams of frozen torrent. My basement windows now peered out at a world of whirling white. Visibility reduced to almost nothing yet the bright glow remained in my room.

I made coffee and with a steaming cup in my hand sat on the edge of my bed to watch the storm unfurl. Chilled I wrapped an afghan over my shoulders and slowly sipped the warming brew.

The dancing flakes and whirling streams were beautiful. Mesmerising. Entrancing. Delighting.

I turn on the TV for news, watching national reporters tell of the large storm in the east. They show snow in various places with promise of more. Yet my nearby American neighbor Buffalo only calls for 4 inches. I laugh at how misleading it all is. The city of Buffalo may have missed a direct hit but the areas around it had been having heavy snow for several days. To the south of the city they already had 44 inches on the ground, all thanks to lake effect snow.

Yet the people of New York state love it. Born and bred winter people, they prepare to celebrate the season with skiing, snowmobiles and skates. I wondered if we, neighbors to the north and only a few miles aways would do the same.

So I sat and watched. Thinking and remembering winters long gone, of snow storms past. Of family gatherings while waiting each one out. Of being snug and safe and seeing Nature do her worst or her best depending on point of view.

Sadly the snowfall lightened and finally stopped. The magic moment of watching flakes drift to the ground was now gone. Yet the huge piles of white remained, virginal, untouched as yet by any hand human or animal. So beautiful, so pristine.

I rushed to dress and head out. I wanted to be the first to leave my mark in the snow. Too old for snow angles, I could however, leave my tracks anyway. I searched for warm clothes... looking urgently for thick warm socks. I found a pink one, a blue one, a two-tone one, a black one... I found one of every color but not two. Giving up I put on a turquoise sock and the other pink knowing a matching set remained hidden from sight.

Now out in the cold, I frolicked in the white wilderness. A squirrel scolds from above, a crow caws but few people are here to play. I feel energized and excited and with cold hands take photos to capture the moment. Nature has given me a gift and others too if only they choose to look at this way. It is a beautiful moment courtesy of Mother Nature.

Thanks mom.