February fears

street scene

I’m been feeling down lately — and it’s just silly, because I’m really enjoying my job at the moment, and we went to the theatre and symphony and caught up with friends over the past week — but…


  1. It’s February, and the sidewalks are horribly icy, but spring is coming in the sense that today’s snow will be mixed with rain and freezing rain (yuck).
  2. I have all but disappeared from my online communities (my apologies for not coming by to visit lately) due to total lack of inspiration.
  3. I haven’t even taken any photos for a week (this image taken two years ago shows Saint John looking almost exactly as it does today, icicles included).
  4. When I was reorganizing my desk a few weeks ago, I dropped my favourite lens, a 24mm prime. Fortunately the lens itself seems to be fine, but the autofocus is no longer working.
  5. My ankle sometimes still aches where I hurt it last fall.
  6. And, well, I’m going to be 50 next month. I’m not shy about claiming my age, but I am afraid of aging, I am afraid of not being able to walk, I am afraid of not being able to carry my camera wherever impulse takes me, I am afraid of not being able to see clearly.

Yes, I know these February blues will pass, that my petulant whining will magically disappear in the face of a new adventure or new accomplishment, or new month. I’ll be waiting.

Photo taken on February 25, 2009


family time

heading home

This is a family time of year, we are told, as if the nostalgic rosy-eyed view of family could be sold along with the tinsel and this year’s must-have electronic gadget. But what is family? A family is fluid, a river you can’t step in twice. Family dynamics are like skating on thin ice. Family is history and baggage and years of trying to fit a square peg into a round hole (or the other way around). Family is one slippery word; from Norman Rockwell to Mommy Dearest, it carries a boat-load of expectations too easily shipwrecked on the shoals of life.

Christmas can be a difficult time, family wise. We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with my parents. After staying away for so many years, I am delighted to be home again, but now my brothers are staying away instead. This is family. Over the past four days, my partner’s son and his long-time girlfriend have been visiting us from Montreal. Spending time with this young couple who are so obviously in love reminds me of the magic that happens when people truly care for each other. This, too, is family.

Those who no longer have family find this time of year difficult as well. In a family-centric society, what could be worse than spending the holidays alone? Yet being alone may be better than spending time with a family that does not love you. That’s why we have friends. My friends have been there for me when I really needed them. And isn’t that, after all, what family is all about?

Photo taken on December 29, 2010

running away from autumn

Every fall I go through the same symptoms. No matter how much I avoided hot weather during the summer, I become a serious heat-seeker. As soon as the temperature drops down into the low teens (celcius), I get out my winter clothes and start layering. Today I am wearing a t-shirt, two sweaters, jeans and warm fuzzy socks (plus a few additional items). It has been cold and damp lately. I feel cold and damp.

I know that I can’t wear all my winter clothes yet, because there won’t be anything to add when it really gets cold. The temperature will drop below freezing, some days will be minus 20 or lower. I remind myself that 12 degrees celcius in mid-winter would feel balmy, but it doesn’t help. Every year, I have to wait and shiver for a couple of weeks until my body adjusts. Yes, summer is gone. Live with it!

Taken on September 26, 2010

Saturday in the park

It was foggy yesterday. This wasn’t the vanish-with-dawn kind of fog, or even the sun-burns-through-by-noon kind of fog. This was stay-all-day fog. As I walked through the uptown streets, several times the sky seemed to brighten and I thought ‘A-ha, now the fog will lift and the sun will come out’. But it didn’t. By the time I headed home again, I think I could see a little farther down King Street, but I wouldn’t swear to it in court.

But I was born here. I grew up with fog. I like fog. And most folks here don’t seem to mind it, to judge from the number of people strolling through town and passing a pleasant afternoon in the park. If you need sunshine to enjoy your day, you’d best move to Fredericton. But if you live in Saint John, and it’s foggy, that usually means it’s not windy. It’s calm and mild and easy on the eyes. And sometimes that’s just what you need.

Taken on September 25, 2010

the fog people

You never know with fog. Sometimes it hovers just offshore but doesn’t come any closer. Sometimes it closes in overnight and evaporates with the morning sun. Sometimes it is more dramatic, clinging coldly to low-lying areas until it finally lets go, trailing ragged white streamers in surrender. But most of the time, you don’t see the fog settle or lift. It is there when you drive to work, and gone when you look out at lunch time. Fog has a mind of its own. It comes and it goes, and you never know.

Taken on June 22, 2010