2020

First Light, New Dawn.
May you live as a free as a dolphin.

A low slab of solid grey cloud extended eastward. Beyond that hard edge, well out over the strait, a band of azure sky was pierced by the jagged peaks of the mainland coastal mountains. They were coated heavily in fresh fluorescent snow which gleamed against the pure blue. It would be crackling cold up there but the sight was cheering. A thin rain continued beneath my island’s cloud. And so the day wears on toward the year’s end.

No berry like a snow berry.
December Rose in a Ladysmith alley. Small but lovely they’re grand to see in winter.
On the other side of the house at the same time Forsythia blooms for New Years.
No complaints.
The neighbourhood book exchange. In a front yard beside a sidewalk in
Victoria. Note the rubber lizard peeking out.  Lovely huh?

I use an old anecdote about climbing mountains. When you finally get to the top of one, you find the apex is not level, often cold and windy, a poor place to rest for long. But you are rewarded a grand sense of success as well as the incredible view and what you see are more mountains. One in particular calls to you and off you go, heading toward it as directly as you can, sliding down steep dangerous slopes as you realize that going down is more difficult and risky than climbing. Finally in the shadowed valley far below, you find yourself up to your arse in the middle of a bog. It is then you must remind yourself that you are actually climbing a mountain. Move forward, one step at a time.

Jack and I walk past this building nearly every day. It looks like a blacksmith shop to me. I love blacksmithing and in the cold rain I can feel the searing heat of the forge, see the bright yellow of hot steel, smell the near-molten metal and the coal smoke, taste the grit, feel the jolt of the hammer on anvil and hear the ring of steel on steel. We walk on in the winter wet.
The way we were. The tag says Canadian General Electric. I found this old radio in an apartment window by the sidewalk. Note the slides for pulling the chassis out of the cabinet. Replacing the vacuum tubes was a regular chore. There was a testing machine and racks of new tubes in nearly every hardware store. I remember listening to these kinds of radios. The cabinets are lovely and collected by some folks.
Corner unit, third floor, no balcony. Same apartment building, more of the way we were.
The man cave. Past the apartment, down the alley. Someone took grampa’s TV and now he refuses to clear out the weeds although he took out the garbage.
Light at the end of the tunnel. Walking the opposite way the path goes through a tunnel under the highway. A homeless fellow has taken up residence.
A few blocks away uptown is a remarkable contrast. An old-style butcher shop still graces the main street. There is excellent fare but I don’t understand how folks afford it. The fish prices are per 100 grams! Remember when poor people ate fish and lived by the sea?

It is another New Year’s Eve. I’m happy to put this past year behind me and look forward to a better one ahead. May we all have someone to love, grand things to do and plenty to look forward to, all the while doing no harm. Long may we climb.

The fairy grotto. Not hard to imagine little flitters in spandex!
And so the daylight is increasing. Yeah right! I’ve tuned up the exposure on this shot 1 1/2 stops.
How about walking a little old half-deaf black dog at 4pm?  That dark blotch on the path between the two big trees is Jack. Guess I should get him one of those jogger’s tail lights.

Happy New Year.

 “The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide you’re not going to stay where you are.” —J.P. Morgan

Author: Fred Bailey

Fred is a slightly-past middle age sailor / writer / photographer with plenty of eclectic hands-on skills and experiences. Some would describe him as the old hippy who doesn't know the war is over. He is certainly reluctant to grow up and readily admits to being the eternal dreamer. He has written several books including two novels, 'The Keeper' and 'Storm Ecstasy,' as well as 'The Water Rushing By', 'Sins Of The Fathers', 'The Magic Stick', as well as an extensive inventory of poetry, essays, short stories, anecdotes and photographs. His first passion is the ocean, sailboats, voyaging and all those people who are similarly drawn to the sea. He lives aboard 'Seafire' the boat he is refitting to go voyaging, exploring new horizons both inner and outer. This blog is about that voyage and the preparations for it. In spite of the odds against it, the plan is to sail away this fall and lay a course southward. If you follow this blog your interest may provide some of the energy that helps fuel the journey. Namaste Contact him at svpaxboat@gmail.com

8 thoughts on “2020”

  3. It’s so nice to see the roses in Winter adding a touch of loveliness and color to your dreary weather. Likewise that colorful Little Lending Library – I think those are a great idea. Grandpa’s man cave sure has seen better days and I think you should definitely buy a jogger’s lamp for Jack.

    Reply

    1. Tony:
      Considering that I’m stumbling along with a noose already around my neck, I have to grasp at anything I can. I just had an e-mail from a friend in Aus who is in Lakes Entrance, in the middle of the flames. He’s happy that the wind has changed and the nearest fire is a whole 10 km away. It’s all perspective I guess.

      Reply

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