Wordless Wednesday
Someone's junk could be somebody else's treasure!
Photo: C. Mercado
Fascinating red door at an episcopalian cathedral off St. Catherine Street, Montreal, Canada
Photo: C. Mercado
The temperature read minus 10 degrees. It is only the third of December. This time last year, we had our first major snowfall, but the barometer was quite steady at around zero to minus 3 degrees. We did not even have snow until the very end of December, making Christmas not really the white one we expected it to be. The Farmers' Almanac predicted a colder winter this year, and they are probably right.
And we just had our first major snowstorm. Kara and I woke up yesterday to a quiet street covered in white.... lucky she had no school and I had planned to take the day off! I ventured outside at about 10:00 am to see how it was, by this time, the temperature had risen to around minus five so it was not as cold as it was earlier in the morning. Armed with my camera, I shot a few frames of the white specks falling from the sky and took one of my car which by now was starting to be covered with snow. Our stairway outside needed shovelling, and perhaps some salt..
We stayed in, it was a lovely time to be indoors, I baked a cassava pie in the afternoon and basically just chilled.
Today, Tuesday, Kara asked whether she could stay home. She had just finished her exams so I agreed, and I also needed some more time off and decided to relax as well. We needed to go out and clear snow off the car, though since by this time, there was such a thick cover on it, we could hardly recognise it as our car! We were also worried that if we did not do it, the snow could get compacted especially if the temperature continued to rise, and it would be really hard work to take it off...
We had a late breakfast, dressed up in warm clothes and proceeded out.... It was amazing.. there was almost a foot and a half of snow on the windshield, about a foot on the roof, and the whole car was sort of buried underneath mounds of soft, fluffy snow! So we set to work, armed with our neighbour's snow shovel, we decided we would clear the doors first so that I could turn on the heat, and it will help melt the snow.
"How on earth will we clear all this snow??"
Shovel, lift, breathe.... Kara and I worked steadily.... we were both laughing since it was quite fun and it was not as cold outside. It was refreshing, with a light snowfall... just beautiful, actually!
Kara hard at work...
At some point I decided to lie on the snow! I had never done this before, and it just felt so good! It felt as if I was lying on a feather bed, since the snow was fresh and this is really the best time... powdery to the touch and simply wonderful! I closed my eyes and put out my tongue to feel the snow.... oh... I just loved the feeling...
Getting up was not easy!
Once the tires were clear, and I was able to get in the car, I started it, and I just kind of ploughed through the snow, and my car just breezed through it... and I moved it to an empty spot just in front of the House. I love my Subaru, I will not exchange it for the BMWs in the world especially during winter. It performs really well particularly in these conditions, the winter tires with the four wheel drive combined make it a really steady and safe car in the winter!!
Almost cleared, only half of the windshield is left to be done
It was an hour's work, all worth it. I cleared our steps as well since I was already out and doing stuff anyway. So, even if if my foot was aching a bit because of this condition I have.... Kara and I enjoyed the exercise.
There is also something about the quietness of snowfall that somehow makes it so peaceful. After clearing the walkway, I stood for five minutes with the shovel under my chin, just looked around and just felt so much tranquility around me, and I was comforted....
And it has not stopped snowing yet...!
Photos by Cecilia and Kara Mercado
Photo: C. Mercado
I can divide my life into small fragments of space and time...
Where often it feels like the gaps are fillers in a film, and
the important bits are the highlights... the small boxes of beauty, truth, lies, pain, absolute joy, jealousies, love, tenderness, deep affection, drama, births and deaths....and so many many more
Different emotions difficult to articulate, but strangely real and true when they happen.
My "compartments" are full... any space left means squeezing the ones that are in it,
Reducing them to smaller pieces.... I often wonder if in doing so they lose a little bit of the importance they used to have?
New memories challenge the old ones: should I keep these,
should I discard those?
Choices.
The options are never easy... Do I really have that vast capacity inside me to store everything?
I want to. I can't. I have to let some go, I have to keep room for new ones.
Spring cleaning. Or they can just gather dust where they are, and hopefully a future will find some use for them. Like the small trinkets I keep from the places I have been, each little one has a story to tell.
The beautifully carved glass perfume bottle from Egypt brings back smells of the Khan-el-Khalily market, the billowing smoke of the hookahs, the short trip to Coptic Cairo, the love and friendship around, with the people I was with....
Dainty lacquer finished coasters from Yangon speak of a life that could have been, but never was and never will be...
The tall, elegant metal candle stick, one of a pair, signified promises, promises that have somehow been broken... of a fire that was to be kept burning but flickered out anyway...
I could go on.
Then there are those freeze frame moments,
captured in the mind without any prejudice,
recorded just because they happened: in black and white, in technicolour and some in sepia.
Each denotes a specificity of that instant, that precious point in a continuing tale....
My life exists in small bits of space and time, and I do not want it any other way.
Choices.
The options are never easy... Do I really have that vast capacity inside me to store everything?
I want to. I can't. I have to let some go, I have to keep room for new ones.
Spring cleaning. Or they can just gather dust where they are, and hopefully a future will find some use for them. Like the small trinkets I keep from the places I have been, each little one has a story to tell.
The beautifully carved glass perfume bottle from Egypt brings back smells of the Khan-el-Khalily market, the billowing smoke of the hookahs, the short trip to Coptic Cairo, the love and friendship around, with the people I was with....
Dainty lacquer finished coasters from Yangon speak of a life that could have been, but never was and never will be...
The tall, elegant metal candle stick, one of a pair, signified promises, promises that have somehow been broken... of a fire that was to be kept burning but flickered out anyway...
I could go on.
Then there are those freeze frame moments,
captured in the mind without any prejudice,
recorded just because they happened: in black and white, in technicolour and some in sepia.
Each denotes a specificity of that instant, that precious point in a continuing tale....
My life exists in small bits of space and time, and I do not want it any other way.
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