WINTER ALONG THE NORTH SHORE, and a SUMMER MEMORY

The photo of the bearded warning sign (more “spraycicles”) was taken at Mersea Beach, after that big storm blew itself out. It blew so hard icicles couldn't even hang straight down. I don’t think anyone would risk scrambling over the groyne rocks on that ice! Yesterday was bright and sunny, and the temperature rose a few welcome degrees. Then last night a chilly winter rain moved in. I stuck my head and camera out the patio door this morning to catch the “kwins” (another word I made up, for those pattering raindrop circles) dancing on the table.


The big river stone on the edge of the picture is also from Alberta. It’s one of the few rocks I brought with me that don’t have holes in them. A dear friend of mine gave it to me from her garden when she had to move. She spent so many hours creating the most amazing rock garden, full of interesting plants and stones and homemade hangings and chimes – all delightfully and artfully designed. We each took a souvenir with us to remind us of all the good times we’d had sitting in the sun there, laughing and solving the problems of the world. I took this rock, which had always been a favorite of mine. I call it the Jupiter Rock, because of it’s color and patterns.

I’m sure that neat old house and lovingly tended garden are part of a string of condos by now, and the Jupiter Rock is currently anchoring the patio table against the winter gales; I haven't quite found the perfect summer spot for it here yet, but looking at it this morning in the low winter daylight, I could almost feel the heat of the sun again.