A Quilting Story

Stitching by hand and by machine, I made this large quilt for my son

My son has an interest in Astronomy so I purchased this material and hand quilted it in random lines. I’ve also made a lap quilt for my daughter and before that a ‘postage stamp’ style quilt as well.

A Quilting Story

Growing up, I watched my Mother, Dixie, develop many interests including Quilting.

Quilting Books, templates, fabrics of all kinds gradually filled up her ‘Sewing Room’. We often said that she could open her own fabric shop, amused by the volume of textiles added to her collection of many yarns, sewing machines, threads and just about every accessory ever invented for Sewing, Knitting and Quilting. As well as learning needlework from her Mother, Dorothy, she took adult courses at the local highschool for Sewing and Quilting. She also had lessons from a professional Quilter in that lady’s home when Mom was boarding there to attend a college training course to be a Registered Nursing Aide. Mom excelled in her nursing because she genuinely cared. Her passion for Quilting led her to create a total of about five baby quilts I’m told. I never actually saw them but I’m sure they were cherished gifts.

As for the fabrics, well, she brought most of her years of gathered inventory to a Church craft and yard sale. Dad and I helped Mom set up her tables piled high with many colours, patterns, textures and lengths of material. It was a sight to behold. It all sold.

For about $100.00 an excited Vietnamese refugee couple sponsored by Church members became the enthusiastic possessors of thousands of dollars of fabric . Mom was so pleased to help them out. She made $300.00 that day. I still recall seeing Dad’s face as he quietly chuckled and shook his head. As did I.

March 18, 2023

Shelley Audrey Wilson

Victoria, BC

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Owl Tales and Photos

A Note To My Previous Post: Owl Tales

‘Owl’ tell you something else.

Pharaoh/Queen Hatshepsut was part Nubian.

Despite all attempts to erase her name and memory, much of her constructions, relics and artifacts- like her jewellery, still exist (made by her jewellers, though claimed to be that of following rulers, a common practice of inheritance and even grave-robbing by secret royal orders- or royals claiming greatness by falsely putting their name on more ancient structures like Pharaoh Kufu-Cheops- blatantly false claims to the Pyramids.) Even today, Hatshepsut’s love poems written to and with Solomon (called The Songs of Solomon) still exist, though confusingly interpreted now as ‘Holy Scripture’. Well, ‘everything is the meaning we give it’.

This Pharaoh/Queen Hatshepsut, chosen by her Father and fully Initiated, ruled Upper and Lower Egypt, Nubia, Ethiopia, a part of the Arabian Peninsula called Saba (Sheba)…and other Tribute Lands, trading extensively throughout the surrounding areas. She travelled to ‘Punt’, the Egyptian name for ‘the Holy Land, with exotic ‘gifts’- a ‘trade mission’- bringing her ‘entourage’ of highly skilled people, including Architects. Punt, ‘the Holy Land’, had also grown wealthy due to King Solomon’s ‘Wisdom’, his ‘Connections’, through several foreign marriages- alignments to foreign ruling families, and his Business Connections with Hiram of Tyre who owned a fleet of ships profitably transporting cargo between countries.

King Solomon was not as wealthy or powerful as Pharaoh/Queen Hatshepsut but was considered by her and her advisors as a suitable partner for a royal marriage, offspring and trade connections. All of this infuriated his powerful priests, his court and many others, as with the powerful families and priests- those power structures- of her lands. Yes, all of this became ‘translated’ into the supposed Anger of God in ‘the Holy Land’ and the Anger of the ‘Gods’ in Egypt. It became a mystery for scholars to ponder for centuries, for others to create myths or tamper with evidence and dates, and for tourist guides to repeat like gossip for a pay-check.

There’s ‘nothing new under the sun’ where Competing Powers are concerned, though most of us ‘don’t give a hoot’ unless we’re personally impacted. Many were, many still are…

Truly, we are a very young Species.

November 5, 2021

Shelley Wilson

Owl Tales

Philosophy, The Love of Wisdom

I believe that everything we experience in life here on Earth has a Spiritual Purpose- the ‘good’, the ‘bad’, the ‘beautiful’, the ‘ugly’- and that every manifestation of all our loves and fears eventually leads to Knowledge, Understanding and Wisdom when we turn within to Remember our Essential Nature, our Spirit. This can be achieved in one moment of one lifetime or through the course of many lifetimes. We are all co-creators with God, the God Force, the Life Force, the Process and the ‘chi’ of everything.

The crown of Wisdom is symbolized beautifully in the crowns of Royalty here on Earth and in the halos depicted around the heads of Spiritual Masters. These are recognitions of the majesty, power and glory of Spirit in everything and the Great Oneness of Ultimate Reality.

Life on Earth can be messy, chaotic and intimidating as we experience ‘predator and prey’ realities in our limited and linear world of spiritual amnesia, but even this has Spiritual Purpose.

Owl Symbolism

Owls have come to represent Earthly Wisdom, a positive symbol in Western Cultures and a more negative one in Eastern Cultures. The Owl sees and hears through the darkness (of ignorance) what others cannot see or hear, like clairvoyants and clairaudients, having abilities to know what others try to hide- their secrets. The Owl doesn’t waste energy. It observes carefully before acting.

Owl See You

My dear Mother, Dixie, a compassionate, empathetic, gregarious woman with psychic abilities, identified with the Owl. Shortly after she died in Northeastern Ontario, September 2015, my daughter, Alissa, and I were gifted by the visit of a Barred Owl sitting in a tree here in Victoria, BC. We learned through the Humane Society later that the Owl died shortly after capture. It had been accidentally electrocuted just before we saw it, so it was a Miracle that it was still able to fly to that tree and sit there while we shared those special moments.

The Owl At School

I grew up in the presence of a stuffed and mounted Great Horned Owl in my Grandfather’s ‘Man Den’ where stuffed trophy fish decorated the walls with a sign that read ‘All Fishermen are liars except you and me and I’m not so sure about you!’ (The mailman, the milkman, the salesman and just about any man passing by his garden were often invited in to have a drink and share their hunting and fishing stories. The Owl witnessed it all.)

I brought the Owl to my young classmates at Queen Elizabeth Public School one day for ‘Show and Tell’. It’s head mysteriously disappeared there. I had to bring the headless bird home.

I learned some Wisdom that day. You can ‘lose your head’ by showing and telling your Wisdom, a price to pay through the ignorance of the less mature, mentally and spiritually one might say.

Owl Power

My Husband, Roger, and I were trudging through Winter snow and ice on our way home in typical Northeastern Ontario mid-Winter temperatures. It was a long walk from our little log cabin in the wilderness. Along the way, we had the company of a large, white Snowy Owl. It followed us, with periodic observational rests, for several kilometres, flying from one hydro power line pole to another as it kept us in sight. I envied its ability to fly, remembering so many dreams of me freely flying over and between power lines. ( No, not a sex dream, Mr. Freud, just a ‘chi’ freedom dream…) I thanked the Snowy Owl and Mother Nature when it finally flew away.

Something Unusual

A few years ago, Alissa and I were hiking through the forest of East Sooke Park, here on Vancouver Island, down to the coastal trail there along the Salish Sea. Along the way, I said to Alissa, “We’re going to see something unusual today.” We continued walking and saw nothing unusual until we turned back onto the trail leading back to my car. A few hikers were gathered on the trail, looking up and taking photos of something. As we approached, we saw that it was a Barred Owl and her two Owlets. They were calmly sitting on low tree branches, eyes wide open, watching the behaviours of humans. It looked like ‘Owl Class’ to me. Having two children myself, I quickly identified with Mother Owl. She and her ‘children’ observed us with piercing intensity. After about fifteen minutes of Shared Observation, the three Owls flew away. Alissa and I left with reverent wonder of Mother Nature and God’s creations- Life in those forms- and the precious experience we shared.

In all the times we’ve hiked those trails, in all seasons, we’ve never encountered Owls there before or after this sighting.

Tea With An Owl

Alissa and I were renting the lower half of a back-split house in Westshore, a part of Victoria, where our large deck faced a wooded area adjacent to a park. Alissa was at work and I was enjoying my usual, solitary cup of tea after lunch. I glanced out our large living-room window and was surprised to see a Great Horned Owl sitting on the lower branch of a tree near the deck fencing. It was staring in the window at me, or perhaps it was staring at the little pewter Owl head window hanging? I reached for my cell phone and took numerous focused and out-of-focus photos and videos. It continued to stare in the window through much of the afternoon, closing its eyes then opening them again to survey the ground and woods where many Squirrels stopped all movement. (The Squirrels visited me so often, Alissa started calling me The Squirrel Whisperer.)

The Owl continued staring and stretching its wings and tail, not bothered by my movements or that of the Internet Service Provider Technician on call and clearly in view on his walks to and from his service truck.

I began to wonder if that Owl was going to be my ‘Harry Potter Pet’ but it eventually flew away. Well, it didn’t actually go far because it woke me up many nights with its hooting and the sounds of Squirrels going Home With God. Yes, I prayed for both Predator and Prey. That’s the reality of this planet.

Who Gives A Hoot?

Somewhere in the ‘Conversations With God’ or other books by Neale Donald Walsch, God suggests we do the ‘Who’ exercise- standing in front of a mirror and staring deeply into our own eyes, we begin asking something like”Who, Whoo, Whooo am I?” or it was “Who, Whoo, Whooo are you?” I forget…lol…I’ll have to look that up again. Anyway, its the same Message that Krishnamurti and other Spiritual Teachers also advised. “Know Thy Self”. Perhaps that was ‘my’ Owl’s Reminder Message to me too.

Who gives a hoot? Who, who, who?

I do. I do. I do. Look deep within to see.

I Am In You and You Are In Me!!!

Okay, that’s not a great Impromptu Poem, but it works for me.

God is Omnipresent. Now that’s a Feast of Thought!!!

The Pharaoh/Queen Hatshepsut (Queen of the South) travelled far to seek the Wisdom of Solomon in the land of ‘Punt’, the ‘Holy Land’, bringing many valued ‘trade’ gifts. Some day that hidden history will be known. What will we be or do to gain Wisdom?

(True stories and a bit of Philosophy- believe it or not- retold November 3, 2021)

Thank you Mother Nature!

Shelley Wilson

Owl Tales

Philosophy, The Love of Wisdom

I believe that everything we experience in life here on Earth has a Spiritual Purpose- the ‘good’, the ‘bad’, the ‘beautiful’, the ‘ugly’- and that every manifestation of all our loves and fears eventually leads to Knowledge, Understanding and Wisdom when we turn within to Remember our Essential Nature, our Spirit. This can be achieved in one moment of one lifetime or through the course of many lifetimes. We are all co-creators with God, the God Force, the Life Force, the Process and the ‘chi’ of everything.

The crown of Wisdom is symbolized beautifully in the crowns of Royalty here on Earth and in the halos depicted around the heads of Spiritual Masters. These are recognitions of the majesty, power and glory of Spirit in everything and the Great Oneness of Ultimate Reality.

Life on Earth can be messy, chaotic and intimidating as we experience ‘predator and prey’ realities in our limited and linear world of spiritual amnesia, but even this has Spiritual Purpose.

Owl Symbolism

Owls have come to represent Earthly Wisdom, a positive symbol in Western Cultures and a more negative one in Eastern Cultures. The Owl sees and hears through the darkness (of ignorance) what others cannot see or hear, like clairvoyants and clairaudients, having abilities to know what others try to hide- their secrets. The Owl doesn’t waste energy. It observes carefully before acting.

Owl See You

My dear Mother, Dixie, a compassionate, empathetic, gregarious woman with psychic abilities, identified with the Owl. Shortly after she died in Northeastern Ontario, September 2015, my daughter, Alissa, and I were gifted by the visit of a Barred Owl sitting in a tree here in Victoria, BC. We learned through the Humane Society later that the Owl died shortly after capture. It had been accidentally electrocuted just before we saw it, so it was a Miracle that it was still able to fly to that tree and sit there while we shared those special moments.

The Owl At School

I grew up in the presence of a stuffed and mounted Great Horned Owl in my Grandfather’s ‘Man Den’ where stuffed trophy fish decorated the walls with a sign that read ‘All Fishermen are liars except you and me and I’m not so sure about you!’ (The mailman, the milkman, the salesman and just about any man passing by his garden were often invited in to have a drink and share their hunting and fishing stories. The Owl witnessed it all.)

I brought the Owl to my young classmates at Queen Elizabeth Public School one day for ‘Show and Tell’. It’s head mysteriously disappeared there. I had to bring the headless bird home.

I learned some Wisdom that day. You can ‘lose your head’ by showing and telling your Wisdom, a price to pay through the ignorance of the less mature, mentally and spiritually one might say.

Owl Power

My Husband, Roger, and I were trudging through Winter snow and ice on our way home in typical Northeastern Ontario mid-Winter temperatures. It was a long walk from our little log cabin in the wilderness. Along the way, we had the company of a large, white Snowy Owl. It followed us, with periodic observational rests, for several kilometres, flying from one hydro power line pole to another as it kept us in sight. I envied its ability to fly, remembering so many dreams of me freely flying over and between power lines. ( No, not a sex dream, Mr. Freud, just a ‘chi’ freedom dream…) I thanked the Snowy Owl and Mother Nature when it finally flew away.

Something Unusual

A few years ago, Alissa and I were hiking through the forest of East Sooke Park, here on Vancouver Island, down to the coastal trail there along the Salish Sea. Along the way, I said to Alissa, “We’re going to see something unusual today.” We continued walking and saw nothing unusual until we turned back onto the trail leading back to my car. A few hikers were gathered on the trail, looking up and taking photos of something. As we approached, we saw that it was a Barred Owl and her two Owlets. They were calmly sitting on low tree branches, eyes wide open, watching the behaviours of humans. It looked like ‘Owl Class’ to me. Having two children myself, I quickly identified with Mother Owl. She and her ‘children’ observed us with piercing intensity. After about fifteen minutes of Shared Observation, the three Owls flew away. Alissa and I left with reverent wonder of Mother Nature and God’s creations- Life in those forms- and the precious experience we shared.

In all the times we’ve hiked those trails, in all seasons, we’ve never encountered Owls there before or after this sighting.

Tea With An Owl

Alissa and I were renting the lower half of a back-split house in Westshore, a part of Victoria, where our large deck faced a wooded area adjacent to a park. Alissa was at work and I was enjoying my usual, solitary cup of tea after lunch. I glanced out our large living-room window and was surprised to see a Great Horned Owl sitting on the lower branch of a tree near the deck fencing. It was staring in the window at me, or perhaps it was staring at the little pewter Owl head window hanging? I reached for my cell phone and took numerous focused and out-of-focus photos and videos. It continued to stare in the window through much of the afternoon, closing its eyes then opening them again to survey the ground and woods where many Squirrels stopped all movement. (The Squirrels visited me so often, Alissa started calling me The Squirrel Whisperer.)

The Owl continued staring and stretching its wings and tail, not bothered by my movements or that of the Internet Service Provider Technician on call and clearly in view on his walks to and from his service truck.

I began to wonder if that Owl was going to be my ‘Harry Potter Pet’ but it eventually flew away. Well, it didn’t actually go far because it woke me up many nights with its hooting and the sounds of Squirrels going Home With God. Yes, I prayed for both Predator and Prey. That’s the reality of this planet.

Who Gives A Hoot?

Somewhere in the ‘Conversations With God’ or other books by Neale Donald Walsch, God suggests we do the ‘Who’ exercise- standing in front of a mirror and staring deeply into our own eyes, we begin asking something like”Who, Whoo, Whooo am I?” or it was “Who, Whoo, Whooo are you?” I forget…lol…I’ll have to look that up again. Anyway, its the same Message that Krishnamurti and other Spiritual Teachers also advised. “Know Thy Self”. Perhaps that was ‘my’ Owl’s Reminder Message to me too.

Who gives a hoot? Who, who, who?

I do. I do. I do. Look deep within to see.

I Am In You and You Are In Me!!!

Okay, that’s not a great Impromptu Poem, but it works for me.

God is Omnipresent. Now that’s a Feast of Thought!!!

The Pharaoh/Queen Hatshepsut (Queen of the South) travelled far to seek the Wisdom of Solomon in the land of ‘Punt’, the ‘Holy Land’, bringing many valued ‘trade’ gifts. Some day that hidden history will be known. What will we be or do to gain Wisdom?

(True stories and a bit of Philosophy- believe it or not- retold November 3, 2021)

Thank you Mother Nature!

Shelley Wilson

Moose Tales

This and Other Realities

Moose Tales

In the Medicine Wheel, the Moose is my Totem Animal in the East. I am a ‘white woman’ now but have lived several Indigenous lives with loved ones on this North American continent, both in male and female forms. (It’s fine if you don’t believe that.)

Mother Nature has gifted me with many sightings and encounters with Moose throughout my years when living in Northeastern Ontario. I am deeply grateful for having those experiences.

Great To Be Alive…

Some years ago, my Husband, Roger, and I journeyed to the Lady Evelyn and Smoothwater Lakes by canoe, having entered the winding access river off of the Beauty Lake Road.

I was filled with thoughts about ‘timing’ just before our little electric motor died, then later after a portage in rough waters, my paddle split down the middle of the bottom half. It happened at the mouth of Smoothwater, a crystal clear lake renowned for sudden high waves and drownings. The wind was threatening and against us so we paddled closer to shore. It suited my mood and the desire to live a solitary life once the children were out of the nest.

When we stopped to pitch tent on a beach, I went to gather sticks for our fire. Some distance away from camp, with my aching arms full, I stood quietly looking at my beautiful, wild surroundings. I was overcome with a wonderful feeling of how great it was to be alive. My concerns and worries dissolved in those few minutes of contemplation.

Just as I returned to camp, Roger and I heard a very loud, crashing sound. There, on the very spot of the shoreline where I had just stood, a Bull Moose appeared as if running for its life, went straight into the water and swam as fast as it could toward the distant shore. He was a magnificent sight to behold.

Then, just moments later, a large Grey Wolf appeared on that very same spot. It watched the Moose intently, hungry and having lost its prey. Then it turned to stare directly at us. That stare pierced my mind and heart. I, truly, felt the Call of the Wild.

What a thrill and honour to see both of these amazing creatures!!

Moose In Paradise…

Years ago, my Dad, Aunt and Uncle and I went on a day trip fishing in Dad’s 12 foot aluminum boat. It was another of several of my journeys into the Lady Evelyn, Dufferin and Smoothwater Lakes where I often saw Moose, Bears and many species of wildlife. My Uncle remarked that it looked as if I’d just entered into Paradise.

On that particular day, my Aunt and I encountered a towering Bull Moose with a heavy rack just a few short yards from our path. We all stopped suddenly. My Aunt, Helen, pulled out her belted knife and I said softly, “Please put that away and don’t move.”

The Moose stood staunchly appraising us for several minutes, then turned back, trustingly, into the bush. We sighed with relief. Then I chuckled with great respect for my wonderful Totem Animal of the East.

Saved By A Moose…

During my late teens, I had another memorable experience with a formidable Bull Moose. To this day, I believe that creature of Mother Nature was Heaven-sent to save me from a potential rape when I prayed for help.

A young man who was dating my cousin in Southern Ontario made a surprise visit to my family home one summer day. He wanted me to take him for a day of fishing. Dad suggested I take him to Lone Wolf Lake, north, towards the Arctic Watershed sign.

I recall the strange thought, ‘I’ll give him a memory he won’t soon forget,’ then wondered why I’d thought that thought.

Off we went on our adventure.

It was a hot, sunny day with swarms of mosquitoes and blackflies all around us as we threw our baited lines into the water. Within minutes, I discovered that I was the bait. Our visitor gave me a ravenous, unwelcomed kiss. I said to the mosquitoes and blackflies, “Oh, oh! What next!” When I looked deep into his eyes, I saw he was being tempted to rape me. I must have made a desperate mental call, a prayer to God, to Mother Nature, to the Angels, because just then a gigantic Bull Moose came charging out of the bush and stood very close to where we were. I had the sudden instinct to drop my fishing rod and run towards the Moose. He turned swiftly and headed back into the bush running, with me chasing after him, unarmed, like a crazy, wild woman. I had a distinctly wolfish, predatory feeling all through this strange experience. The southern visitor began chasing after me too but was slow to catch up. Then the strange feeling passed and I finally stopped, leaving that blessed Moose to its solitary run deeper into the wilderness.

My visitor caught up. He had a frightened, sheepish look in his eyes now. I said, “It’s time to leave.” We didn’t talk on the way back to Kirkland Lake and I heard he headed back south immediately.

I didn’t speak of this experience for many years but chuckled to myself whenever it came to mind. In a family of Moose Hunters, I was saved by a Moose…

(True stories of Northeastern Ontario retold November 2, 2021)

Thank you Mother Nature!

Shelley Wilson

A Fox Tale

This and Other Realities:

A Fox Tale

“You are being cunningly deceived” said the sly fox with the cunning smile. I silently laid the Russian Gypsy divining cards down and wondered…

Mother Nature had gifted me with many surprises of beautiful foxes appearing in my life. I always welcomed them with love and gratitude whenever they appeared. There was the curious, friendly fox at Round Lake, the patient red fox that waited at the edge of the road by Kenogami Lake as Roger and I approached in our car, the very large and different (Arctic?) fox who sat quietly as I picked blueberries near the Esker Park lakes, and other foxes too… I felt thrilled and honoured to see them.

I wondered what the cards of the fox were trying to tell me as I put the deck of cards away. I kept this all to myself.

The following evening, my young teenage son, Aaron, returned home, wide-eyed and breathless. He said, “Mom, you won’t believe this, but a fox just followed ma as I was walking home… all the way from downtown to here!”

I looked at him with a motherly, sly smile and asked, “Do you have something to tell me, son?” He hesitated but a few minutes later reluctantly revealed that he’d been smoking cigarettes with his friends. I almost laughed, remembering the peer pressure to smoke that I also experienced at about his age. My friend’s Grandmother caught us smoking in her shed. She’d seen clouds of smoke coming out of the shed and thought it was on fire. Then my Mother found a smelly cigarette butt in my coat pocket.I think my sickly green face gave me away, despite the fact that I’d grown up with clouds of cigarette smoke in our family home every day. A few years later when sitting with another friend in a restaurant, both smoking to pretend that it made us look ‘glamorous’, my friend said, “You look ridiculous! You don’t even know how to hold that cigarette!” I looked at her, thought a few seconds, then said, “You know, you’re right!” I crushed my cigarette out and that was the end of it for me. She continued to pay for the addiction for years and I often thought of her words with gratitude.

So, Aaron stood before me, clearly expecting to be ‘grounded’ and, worse still, not be allowed to play basketball at the school in the evenings for a while. I didn’t add a strict punishment to those feelings I understood and read so clearly on his face. Back then, our home was a ‘smoke free’ zone. My husband, Roger, smoked outside in all weather. Doing that was a rarity in those days. Our daughter, Alissa, had asthma. Anywhere near any cigarette smoke in the air, since she was a toddler especially, her physical reaction would mean going immediately to the Emergency Room of a nearby Hospital. Smoking was then a ‘life and death’ situation.

There was no parental reprimand to Aaron that night. I just spoke softly. “Please don’t smoke around here, son”, and left him to learn from his choices. There’s a fine line between parental guidance and parental tyranny.

Then I silently thanked Mother Nature and her Fox who had cunningly revealed a secret to me.

(A true story from Englehart, Ontario and retold in Victoria, BC- November 2, 2021)

Thanks again Mother Nature!

Shelley Wilson

Beaver Tale

This and Other Realities:

Beaver Tale

Mother Nature has gifted my family and I with many cherished memories through the years, often presented as pleasant surprises.

It was Canada Day, July 1st. My husband, Roger, and I decided to bring our two less-than-enthusiastic, pre-teen children, Alissa and Aaron, on a day trip of boating and fishing with our aluminum boat and outboard motor. We drove to an access point near Matachewan on the Montreal River. It’s a 220 km (137 mi) long tributary, with its own tributaries, of the Ottawa River stretching another 1,271 km (790 mi).

There, we loaded the boat with all the essentials , including the children.

It was a long ride to our destination during which Roger manned the outboard motor, I watched for the thrills of seeing wildlife and potential hazards, while the children watched the water- the waves, the ripples, the sprays- and the sky- the passing clouds in the bright sunlight, the birds flying by- and the shoreline of rugged Northeastern Ontario trees, shrubs, rocks and driftwood, all of which lulled them to sleep. While Roger and I were mapping, they were napping.

Part of our journey included a challenging portage. We all had to get out of the boat and slowly winch it up, with our gear and heavy motor, using a vintage winch pulley kept there to aid travel up the overland incline. It was a strenuous, exhausting task made more uncomfortable with the hot temperature, mosquitoes and blackflies. Like explorers and pioneers, we were on our determined way again.

Finally, we reached our chosen spot for fishing. Baited lines were all thrown in the water, not caring whether we actually caught any fish. The time of day, hot temperature and cooked bait were ignored as minor details. I recall that we were all focused on the contents of our cooler more than anything else.

Once satiated, we all drifted into silent reflection on our surroundings. That’s when Canada’s Totem Animal, a Beaver, swam up close to our boat, then loudly slapped its tail on the water. Some folks would say it was the Beaver’s territorial warning but we called it “The Canada Day Salute”.

( A true story retold November 1, 2021)

Thank you Mother Nature!

Shelley Wilson

Partridge Tale

This and Other Realities:

Partridge Tale

It was Christmas. Our little town in Northeastern Ontario had been gifted with another heavy snowfall. Fresh snow sparkled through the windows of our ‘doll house’ home. The beautiful white pine and shrubs of our garden all glittered like a Christmas card sent from the Heavens.

Inside, we enjoyed the colourful sight of hand-crafted ornaments on the Christmas tree and a bounty of holiday gifts beneath it. Our young children, Alissa and Aaron, played carefree games in the living-room as my husband, Roger, and I prepared dinner in the kitchen. Music drifted through the rooms in wave after wave of carols: ‘Silent Night’, ‘The Holly and The Ivy’, ‘Deck The Halls’ and another favourite- the countdown carol ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ our children loved to sing along with…”and a Partridge in a pear tree”…

The children’s excitement intensified that memorable day with the priceless gift of a very special visit. A glance outside had revealed the presence of a Partridge perched on our cherished crab-apple tree beside the dining-room window. Roger and I rushed into the room to watch this unusual sight. There was our own version of a Christmas carol come to life!

The plump bird didn’t seem to mind us watching it dine on the tiny crab-apples still clinging to the dormant tree. We were all so amused to see how much its heavy weight bent the branch it sat upon.

I recall wondering how this solitary Partridge could be so stout given the frozen state of the wilderness near our home. I also remember wondering how this naturally ‘shy’ bird found its way to our street and our house and tree with such perfect timing. How we loved Nature’s wondrous presence and presents!

I am still filled with thoughts and feelings of gratitude and wonder to this very day.

(A true story retold October 29, 2021)

Thank you Mother Nature!

Shelley Wilson

Bunny Tale

Thank you Mother Nature!

This and Other Realities:

Bunny Tale

When our two children were ‘wee folk’, my family had a special visit one magical Easter morning.

That day, the snow was still about 5 comforters thick on the garden and surrounding ground where we lived in a cozy, two-storey ‘doll house’ in Northeastern Ontario.

As I drew back the heavy curtains covering our large living-room windows, I delighted to see the snow sparkling brightly in the morning light. White lattice panel inserts added ‘old world’ charm to view through those modern windows.

Laughter filled the house. Alissa and Aaron were up early that morning to hunt for the Easter Bunny gifts of sweet chocolate eggs hidden in, under and around so many objects in every room. Soon, little hands and faces were smeared with chocolate happiness.

Looking out the window, we discovered a wondrous, timely sight. There, in the freshly fallen snow were the distinctive tracks of a ‘Bunny’ who had sometime earlier hopped out of the nearby wilderness, then crossed the frozen garden to stop directly in front of our window. The tracks then turned back in the direction of the wilderness. Why it went to that spot was not evident. A delicious little mystery to savour…

If there’d been any doubt as to their Easter chocolate benefactor, it melted away as the children peered out at those clearly unmistakeable tracks.

A little voice said, “How did it get inside, Mommy?”

“That’s a secret,” I said with a chuckle as my husband chuckled too.

(A true story retold October 28, 2021)

Thank you Mother Nature!

Shelley Wilson

I Had A Wish

I had a wish for a white shawl recently. I wondered why, then let it go.

I was remembering a visit to one of my friends in Ontario. She introduced me to her neighbour, a spiritualist and psychic. This lady closely resembled and even naturally gestured like my deceased mother. She also shared my sister’s first name. Like mom, Beverley read tea leaves so I asked her to do mine.

In the reading I was referred to several times as a Polar Bear. This caused me to chuckle because I’d once written a poem ‘My Grandma Was A Bear’. That’s how I saw my father’s mother in her personality, her ways and even her physicality. A Brown Bear. Another upstanding Brown Bear (non-human) even greeted her at her door one day as I recall.

The image of my being seen as a Polar Bear came to mind immediately before I had the wish for the white shawl.

The day after my wish, I decided to take a walk and check out our local consignment store here in the James Bay area of Victoria, BC.

As I waited in line to enter the store, I noticed something white amidst clothing in the window. There it was. A white fleece shawl. When I bought it, the ladies who served me said they’d placed it there just minutes before. They looked incredulous when I remarked that I had a wish for a white shawl the day before and it was obviously meant for me.

To my delight, the shawl has an embroidered West Coast Indigenous design of a white sun with the signature of the artist.

I’ve long had a strong feeling that I’ve had at least one life as a member of the West Coast Indigenous Nations. I truly love and admire the elegant sophistication of their artistry.

The border of the shawl was plainly serged. I felt it needed my personal touch so I added a fringe of yarn purchased on the same day. I had no idea what to do with this unusual yarn when I bought it. (This happens a lot!)

Looking at it now, I feel the fringe is definitely the finishing touch needed to express my nature and my creative spirit.

This Polar Bear With Sun Shawl is my wish come true.

A Snowflake In The Air

It was Snowing when I decided to go for a walk last Saturday, the day before Valentine’s Day. I had just written my poem, A Single Snowflake, before 8a.m. that morning, and walked with the words still fresh in my mind.

Moving through this rare Snowfall here, it felt like I was walking through my poem.

It was shortly after 11a.m. when I came upon the painted Heart on a sidewalk grate. (Perhaps that’s not the technical term for it but I was feeling grateful to see it, so ‘grate’ it is for me.)

The Heart looked like a Valentine card with its ‘target’ Heart and sliding boot print ‘arrow’. Seizing the moment, I pulled off my mitten and used my cell phone camera to record my delight.

The funny thing is that I didn’t take a good look at the photo until I was about to post and share it through my favourite websites the next day, Valentine’s Day.

There it was, a little fuzzy but unmistakable Snowflake in the air. I wonder if it landed on or near the ‘target’ on the ground.

February 15, 2021

Shelley Wilson

Visual Memoirs of My Fifties: Prospecting

Photo taken in the Rocky Mountain Trench. The weather turned colder and I woke up one morning to a rather large snake that had found its way under my tent, under my sleeping bag, and under me. Neither of us did any harm. Lol.

Intersection of Timelines

Intersection of Timelines?
The air smelled fresh on a cool but sunny Autumn day in Kirkland Lake. There, the sky can be more beautifully, vibrantly blue than in so many places I’ve been.
That day my husband was working out of the New Liskeard office of a company where he was employed as an insurance claims adjuster. Our teenage children were both at school in Englehart where we lived. I decided to visit my parents’ home in K.L. after experiencing an unusual feeling of nostalgia.
It was a perfect day for family tea and conversation, then a solitary walk through familiar places. I marvelled at the clarity and blueness of the sky as I strolled the same streets I’d walked so many times before. The familiarity of those streets and sidewalks felt so safely ‘comfortable’ and ‘predictable’. I sipped those feelings like a cup of favoured tea as I came to the intersection of three streets close to my former home.
As I began to cross the road, I saw something that remains vivid in memory to this very day.
I stopped to watch as a car drove by. Waiting for a car to go by so as to cross a road without cross walks is nothing out of the ordinary but this was different. As this vehicle slowed down at the intersection, I faced the driver’s side with a clear view of the man driving. He seemed completely oblivious to my presence as I waved enthusiastically to acknowledge my husband at the wheel of that car just a few feet away. I thought ‘How strange! He’s supposed to be in New Liskeard today.’ Just then I noticed that he was wearing a different coloured suit. Gray, not the navy blue suit he wore when he left that morning. ‘Why would he need to change suits?’ The car held a surprise for me too. It was the same make, model, and colour of our car but as it passed I clearly saw that the license plate was not ours!
I stood at that intersection transfixed with overwhelming feelings of bewilderment, and all the ‘what ifs’ of past and present choices speeding through my mind. Years later, after watching the movie ‘What The Bleep Do We Know’ about Quantum Physics, I wondered if I had played the role of ‘the Observer’ witnessing a ‘Timeline’ of different life choices on that truly strange Autumn day. I wonder…
(A true tale that still puzzles the family—Shelley Wilson)

May your Spirit shine brightly, Shelley

How I Became A Tree

Was it fairy dust and magic wands?The Spirit of Trees in the park had called me to a solitary walk among them. I was happily enchanted by their beauty and strength as I walked past or stopped to gaze up and touch them with tenderness and reverence for Life in them. I was about to leave the park when I decided to stop for a drink of my bottled water. As my thirst was quenched, I noticed a grey Squirrel several yards away watching me. I became still and silently observed its fearless, direct approach with fascination. Without hesitation the Squirrel began climbing one of my unmoving legs.

Well, I didn’t plan to become a Tree, but there I was standing silently among the beautiful Trees of a park with a grey Squirrel climbing up my leg. It was clearly intent on reaching my upper limbs and head.

I reacted by swiftly bending to gently stop the Squirrel’s ascent with an offering of bottled water at the level of my knee. The confused creature paused, looked into my smiling eyes, then quickly backed down. It showed no interest in the water as it scampered a few feet away to stare at me curiously.
My body felt immediate and grateful relief from release of the grip of sharp claws. I had imagined a graffiti of scratches on exposed skin of my trunk and face. I began to tremble and chuckle at the same time.
Now two male Mallard Ducks waddled closely before me. One stopped within a few inches of my sandalled feet. He looked up without the slightest sign of fear or caution. Like the Squirrel and I, the Duck stood rooted in silent wonder.
After a brief eternity, the Duck rejoined his companion.
I was amazed. ‘I have no food to offer’ I thought. ‘Why are they acting like this?’
Then I recalled the previous weekend at a ‘Roots’ gathering to support the Ancient Forest Alliance. It was a mix of instructive talks about Nature and Energy, guided meditations, music, forest walks, Tree hugging, sharing perspectives, plant and artisan sales. I bought a bottle of herbal oil mixed with the Spring resin of Poplar buds for medicinal skin care. Applying it with another mixture of cream containing organic Bee products for my face, hands, and feet became part of my daily self-care. ‘Ah, of course, I must smell like a Tree!’ I mused.
This memory led me to pondering about ‘Tree Energy’ in my stroll through Beacon Hill Park. I’d lovingly touched several old Trees with a silent blessing for each. I even asked one Tree to kindly impart some of its ‘Tree Energy’ so as to calm and clear unwanted ’empathic Energies’ I’d recently experienced. A peaceful stillness breezed through me, leaving a grounded and serene visceral feeling. This happened minutes before I encountered Squirrel and Duck. It was ‘medicine’ and ‘communion’ with Nature at the same time. Everything is Energy.
Did I look like a Tree? Well, before I decided on my walk to the park that morning, I chose to wear taupe brown pants, a top coloured with muted shades of green, and a Spruce green vest. They just felt ‘right’ somehow.
Looking back now, I have to laugh. I’d worn Tree colours, Tree scent, and Tree Energy. That’s how I became a Tree.

(Earth Day 2016)
(a true tale)

Sent from Outlook for iPhone

Fragile Thread

Fragile Thread (my digital composition)

Thoughts of you come to mind. I wonder how you are.
We haven’t communicated in so long. Too much time and distance…
I sit by the patio door, now open, with a cup of tea resting on the table by my chair.
I am silent and quietly aware.
A gentle breeze flows in. I know its presence through my chilled skin
and the sight of leaves shivering on the vine and shrubs outside.
Now sunlight informs me of a fragile spider thread. It’s attached to the vine at one end
but no longer connected at the other.
Fascinated, I watch this fragile thread as the breeze lifts and carries it directly to me.
Ah, I see!

short story by

Shelley Wilson
July, 2014

 

May your Spirit shine brightly, Shelley