the first day of fall

"What I mean by the first day of fall is that day when you suddenly understand with your whole body that the season has changed.  When the air feels snappier against your skin and the sky's blueness turns wistful, and the humming of insects shifts pitch, and you just know like you know your own name that summer is over."(Marisa de los Santos in Belong To Me) 

how is it possible

that the first day of fall

has come and gone?

I find myself

clinging to the hope

that fall will linger 

that sunlight

will still find leaves on trees

to bath in 

glistening gold

i catch myself

calling "noooooo"

to the wind

as I watch leaves whirling 

tumbling

lifting into the air

and away

leaving trees

a little 

less 

clothed

every day.

words and images (unless otherwise cited) © copyright Melody Armstrong 2016

things i love about fall

i love...

1. a mix of cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg & crabapples bubbling on the stove. 2.long walks in the nearby woods 3.picking crabapples 4. kicking piles of leaves into the air and watching sunlight catch them on the way down 5.lingering rays of sun on the front porch 6.being enraptured by fall's beauty through the lens  

7. long walks with people i love 8.  making jelly and apple butter 9. soft worn-out blue jeans and brown boots 10.cool, fresh air infusing our bedroom while we sleep  

11. out-door parties around the fire pit and homemade pizzas bubbling in the pizza oven 

12.ginger squash soup simmering 13.volleyball start-up  14. back-to-school pics on the front step 15. snuggling up to my husband under our feather duvet 16. savouring that "new beginning" feeling 17. watching kids with basketballs, volleyballs & skateboards on the driveway  18. sunflowers smiling against blue sky backdrop

 19. cool,damp mornings hugging and praying and waving at the doors 20. low golden sunlight streaming 21. geese splashing wildly in the river as they take off into flight 22. crunchy leaves under my feet 23. favourite wool hats  24. saving seed pods for next spring 25. cozying up in front of the fireplace

that's me...now what about you?

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2016

life between the highlights

Stubbed toes.  Rusty ladders.  Slimy steps.  Chipped nail polish.  

There is so much living that happens between the highlights. We all know it's true, yet we sometimes believe that ours is the only life that is ordinary, mundane, uneventful or filled with heartache.  We are dazzled by the vast number of "likes" on our friend's Facebook pages or Instagram accounts.  We believe they are proof that everyone else in our circle is experiencing life more fully, taking more exotic vacations, accomplishing more items on their bucket list, eating healthier, raising all-star children, achieving their purpose-driven life........living the dream.

But what about all those in-between moments where some of the really important stuff happens --the ones we would never post for the world to see? Where disappointments stretch our character? Where misunderstandings give us opportunity to  forgive? Where we learn about humility through illness or injury? Where we struggle and strive and learn to dig deeper? Where our dependance on God grows moment by moment?

I want to share with you some of my in-between moments as a sort of sequel to the post before this one entitled Summer Sweetness and Seasons of the Soul [link here]  and one from last summer called Summer Gifts and Dreamy Spaces (link here).

I wrote my "Summer Sweetness" post over the course of a day and a half alone at the lake. Normally I just love the idea of a couple days alone in such a beautiful place with time to myself to do whatever I want: think, swim, walk, write, day-dream (and clean with no-one messing it up behind me.)  But what you won't know from reading my post is that I actually felt so lonely this time when my family was leaving.  I cried when they pulled away.   I just felt strange and weird and out of sorts -- with tears that seemed way too close to the surface.   I'd had a misunderstanding with my daughter that we hadn't really resolved well; I was feeling disconnected from my husband - sensing that his thoughts had shifted out of holiday mode and back onto work and real life; I'd felt disappointed earlier that morning that I was the only one who wanted to go for my "birthday"waterski  - when the lake was so glassy and it was our last opportunity before we took the boat out for the summer.

So that was how my "alone" time began -- kind of gross, but I knew it was just temporary weirdness.  It didn't take long before I settled into the peaceful solitude of my surroundings and sat down to write.

Then there was the rat. Yes, you heard right.  RAT!!  I won't go into all the gory details, but suffice it to say that later that night after I'd gone to bed with my bedroom doors open to the top floor deck, I'd heard a nighttime visitor scurrying just a few feet away.  Though I jumped up and flipped the light on, I didn't see anything.  But sure enough the next morning, (which also happened to be my birthday) I discovered evidence left by the critter that assured me it was bigger than a mouse.  YUCK!  It had also left evidence all over the main deck as well.

I am an Alberta girl who knows nothing about rats, but I do know about mice.  This was not a mouse.  So, I had a problem to solve.  As a result, I spent the morning of my birthday researching and looking at disgusting pictures to find out if I was actually dealing with a rat.  Then after lunch I drove into town to buy the only three rat traps I could find.  Which, by the way, are huge.  Again....yuck!!

To make a long story short, and to save you all the suspense that must be killing you, I set the traps with peanut butter, one on each level of the house, and by the next morning, I'd caught myself a pack- rat the size of my foot with a long hairy tail.

Life between the highlights.  Not glamorous.   Often not so humorous.

I guess one of the main reasons I write in this blog is simply to celebrate the grace that lines each of our moments - the highlights, lowlights and every bit of living in between.  It is a very precious gift to be able to see God at work in our lives, no matter how things appear.  This is what I ask for daily.  My earnest desire is ALWAYS to see and recognize God's grace and then to share that grace and hope with others.  This is what I love to do. Yet, you may be surprised to know that I experience a lot of angst about my writing.  Yet another part of my own story of life between the highlights.

Almost every time I sit down to write,  I worry that my posts will sound trite or cliché.  Most days, I agonize over every line; rarely does my writing happen effortlessly.  Instead, I grapple with wording and often scrap posts altogether because I am afraid of how my words will be taken.  At times, I find writing about joy and beauty the most difficult of all topics.  The whole time that I am trying to encourage and share beauty with my readers,  I am thinking about all the ugliness that so much of the world faces every single day.  I think about the secret heartache of people I rub shoulders with at the grocery store.  I think about the vast, indescribable suffering of people on every surface of the globe.  I worry that my words will make people scoff or feel even more cynical about the hurts and disappointments of life.  I worry that my joy will highlight someone else's pain.  Or if I write about hurt or sadness or struggles, I worry that I'm not qualified because I have such a good life overall.  I worry that I will sound like a princess who takes her own perfect life for granted and only obsesses over minuscule first-world problems.  I worry that I will sound completely naive or insensitive to the tragedies occurring all around me.  I worry.  And that gets in the way of me following my calling.

A dear friend recently challenged me when I shared these feelings with her.  She is the one who, back when I was a teenager, helped me fall in love with writing and poetry and who still encourages me to write from the heart today.  She said simply and pointedly:  "Try not to judge who needs it and who doesn't.  Let the Lord have his way with your writing.  There's a million message he can bring through your words. "

Let the Lord have his way.  If I believe that I'm following my calling when I sit down to write, then why can't I simply trust that my writing will land where it needs to and touch those it was meant for?

Trust.  I am learning to trust God with all of the in-between parts of my life.I want to practice noticing and celebrating God's gifts of grace that come during all the seasons, especially those between the highlights when life is tough, or ordinary, or confusing, or overwhelming.  I have a hunch that as grand as the highlight moments are, it's the in-between stuff that matters most in the end.

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2016

summer sweetness & seasons of the soul

It's breezy today and there is a soft grey cloud cover filtering out the strong, hot rays of this past week.  For the fair and freckled, like myself, the day is perfect.  I've opened the doors at either ends of the house to allow the faint scent of the river to flow through and mingle with the humid air drifting in from the lake.

I am sitting alone in my room luxuriating in the delicious solitude of this moment.  The rest of my family left for home a few hours ago and I will join them again in a day and a half.  But in the meantime, I am enjoying quiet; not necessarily silence, but the kind of quiet that lets me hear wind rustling through the leaves, the honking of rowdy geese flying low over the river, two little girls giggling at the park, the rhythm of my own thoughts flowing uninterrupted, and maybe even those whispers of God as He leans in close to share words that nourish my spirit and prepare me to move into the next season as it unfolds. For whether I am ready or not, summer is coming to a close soon.

I've just completed Mark Buchanan's book Spiritual Rhythm: Being with Jesus Every Season of your Soul.  With the carefully crafted words of a poet, Mark takes the reader on a stroll through the four seasons and the activities that characterize them, and then uses them as an analogy for the spiritual seasons of our soul.  Since it's summer now, I've especially related to the observations he makes about this time of year and how it corresponds with a summer of the soul...the beauty, the bounty, the energy, the leisure, the warmth. Who doesn't love summer?

For most of us, there is a unique sweetness about summer that makes us want to savour every moment the way we would savour the taste of a lush, ripe plum picked right off the tree and eaten while the sun's heat still permeates its skin.  (I got to do that for the first time ever this summer.  What a treat for a girl from the praires.)  Yet we know deep down, even as the sweet juice drips through our fingers and off our chin, that we must be present to the moment, giving thanks for these summer gifts even as they occur.

We help ourselves to the plums and enjoy.  If we hold onto them too long, they spoil.

I have to remember this as I try not to hold too tightly to the dreamy stretch of weightless days that have allowed us all to drift and daydream a little; to pause from the rushing, racing, accomplishing we do all year.  There have been so many "ripe plum" moments:  sitting in candlelight out on the front deck listening to my younger son play guitar till midnight, riding bike quietly under the stars with my daughter, walking and splashing along the lake shore with my mom and sister, savouring a few quiet mornings alone with my mocha and my Lord, going for a long swim up the river with my husband and a night swim out on the boat just the two of us, listening to each of my children share personal things that have been significant and meaningful to them this summer, cheering my brother on as he wake-surfs in his 60's (sorry for telling!!) and my 10 year-old nephew do the same for the first time, observing and respecting my oldest son as he becomes a man - making his own choices and stretching out into his independence, watching my kids with their cousins laughing and having fun, delighting in the deep heart-to-heart talks with a life long girlfriend during her visit,  playing volleyball in the sand until it's too dark to see, preparing and enjoying meals with a multitude of family and friends, eating ice cream with gramma and grampa and all of us, laughing at teenage boys dancing to house music beneath pulsing speakers out on the boat....all of this and SO MUCH MORE.  My heart is full to the brim and spilling over.

A year and a half ago I starting collecting letters to make up the word "nourish" to put over a collage of family images at the lake.  This summer I finally completed it and put it up on the wall.  It turned out perfectly, for I knew that our times together at the lake would be times of nourishment, for our bodies, yes, but especially for our souls.

As I spend my last few days here at the lake, I find myself thinking ahead to what next summer is going to be like, hoping for many more wonderful family times together, yet knowing that our oldest son will have graduated from high school by then and be getting ready to leave for collage in another province.  My heart aches at the thought of it.  It will be another kind of letting go and I'm not sure if I've had practice enough to do it very gracefully.  In the words of one of my favourite authors Katrina Kenison:

I looked around...and tried to memorize the moment, to burnish it by my own attention into a keepsake that I might store away now and retrieve later, on a day when the sparkle and intimacy of the holiday had long since vanished from the house...The irony, of course, is that every moment of our togetherness contains the seed of a farewell, that life is always a dance of coming together and moving away again.  Somehow we must learn to be nimble in our steps, to welcome both togetherness and solitude, to move boldly, easily, out into the world and to honour as well the soul's requirements for rest, replenishment and reflection."  (p. 249  The Gift of an Ordinary Day)

So today, in the peace and contentment of some sparkling alone moments, I thank God for all the sweetness and nourishment he has provided this summer, for the summer season of my soul right now, and for the year ahead that is full of possibilities and beauty -- even in the letting go.

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2016 (unless otherwise cited)

roots and blooms

I went for a walk a couple weekends ago while my daughter was at an early morning volleyball practice.  It was a gorgeous, cool, spring morning and truthfully, I stopped a lot more than I walked.  My intention was to walk over to a local coffee shop and spend a few quiet moments writing but I got a little distracted along the way.  Luscious blossoms everywhere were just begging to be touched and smelled and photographed.

When I finally arrived, the thought foremost on my mind was the transient beauty of spring.  The transient nature of beauty itself.

Spring always provides a feast for the senses.  Each year we are gifted with the opportunity to witness the stunning unfolding of fragrant new life, the sudden arrival of bold yet delicate buds and the warmth and sunshine that coax them into bloom.

There is something exquisite about a blossom opening to the world.  It is an image of courage and possibility.  It is beauty unspeakable, fragile, temporary.

I think we sometimes long for a life of endless spring, a life teeming with newness and dreams unfolding.  If only every day of our lives could look like such a spring morning, a shocking splendour of colour and texture and possibility.  But...there is no spring without winter.  And this is the part we disagree with; this is the part that we would likely do away with altogether if it was in our power.  After all, why suffer through the cold, the desolation, the dormancy, the dying?  And now, only a few weeks later, the blossoms have faded, the fragrance has passed and the glory of spring has lost its edge a little.  Spring surrenders to summer.

I guess this conversation makes me think about roots.  Unlike blooms, roots never have the spotlight.  They never arrive on the scene to take our breath away or inspire.  They are unseen and unexciting, simply growing deeper day after day, year after year, in every season.

I think I can sometimes spend too much energy trying to find ways to keep my life in constant bloom -- wanting it always to be colourful and interesting and new.  I want to see my dreams blossom (and preferably against a backdrop of dappled light, thank you very much!).  But given how quickly spring passes and the dreamy, fragrant petals fall to the ground, I think I would do better to spend my energy on growing deeper roots.

The creator and author of all eternity has a beautiful, perfectly crafted plan and his plan includes seasons -- all of them.  He works out his purposes, each in their own time.  Whether the ground is frozen or bursting with life, whether storm clouds build or the skies are cloudless blue, whether branches bend heavy with fruit or are stripped stark and bare, God is still faithfully and mercifully at work.

He is growing our roots.

Strong. Simple.  Beautiful.

Words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2016

needing a little spring?

::: 

wishing you a few moments

of happy

and

spring smiles that spill over

into laughter

maybe even a carefree afternoon 

to take a long walk

listen to the birds sing

and enjoy a little sun

on your face

:::

(I wish I could give proper credit to the photographer who took the image of the women above -- which I absolutely love.  I tore this image from a magazine but forgot to note the artist.)

life in transition

transitions

almost

imperceptible 

at times

a quiet whisper of change

  a slight shift of balance

a subtle transforming moment

when one thing nudges up against another

becoming new in the process

it can be a touch 

so gentle in passing 

that unless intentionally regarded

it slips away

unnoticed 

but sometimes 

like a growing, rushing wave

that meets the shore

with life altering force

transitions come

unexpected, untamed, unimagined

leaving us reshaped

unfamiliar

even to ourselves 

all that was buried

beneath layers of busyness

or soul distraction

or forward momentum

surfaces

everything is visible

uncontained

uncensored

just laying bare upon the surface 

of this life we've been building together.

It's a lovely sort of chaos

like modern art

hard to understand

but possibly beautiful.

words and images © copyright melody armstrong 2016

autumn gifts

I can't help but share this one with you again...

while i adore summer

in all its dazzle and lustre

it is autumn that soothes my soul

if i settle into it

 and let it works its magic

for if summer is an exuberant laugh

autumn is an intimate whisper 

if summer is dips in the lake and dinner on the front porch

autumn is books by the fireplace

and homemade soup simmering on the stove

if summer is fast rides in shiny, bright toys 

that make us scream with abandon and delight

autumn is long, leisurely walks 

along broken down fences to old barns barely standing

lost in thoughtful contemplation

if summer is passionate kisses, kicked off sheets and windblown hair

autumn is a tender embrace under fluffy down duvet and

a favourite wool hat pulled over wild tangles

if summer is luscious peaches and cherry stained t-shirts

autumn is crisp, crunchy crabapples eaten right off the tree

and puckered lips that follow

if summer is the sound of lapping waves and steps splashing along the shore

autumn is the swish of dried leaves kicked into the air or scrunched along the sidewalk

if summer is the song of raindrops and the call of red winged blackbirds

autumn is the frenzy of honking geese en route to a party 

perfect V's silhouetted against foggy morning skies

if summer is a spray of blossoms and petals in flirtatious, rainbow colors

autumn is blushing, red leaves and shy pinecones and marigolds peeking through frost

if summer is cool drinks in iced glasses and barefeet hopping on sizzling pavement

autumn is steamy hot chocolate and toes cozy in brown leather boots

if summer is kids out late and not to be seen for hours

autumn is family tucked a little closer while daylight slips earlier into darkness

if summer is waking with the sun on your skin

eyes wide open to a world already beckoning

autumn is a gentle stirring 

a quiet tiptoe

into a world of stillness

barely lit by crimson sunrise

and so...

while i adore summer

in all its dazzle and lustre
it is autumn.....

if i settle into it

 and let it works its magic
that soothes my soul. 

words and images © copyright melody armstrong 2015

autumn gifts

I can't help but share this one with you again...

while i adore summer

in all its dazzle and lustre

it is autumn that soothes my soul

if i settle into it

 and let it works its magic

for if summer is an exuberant laugh

autumn is an intimate whisper 

if summer is dips in the lake and dinner on the front porch

autumn is books by the fireplace

and homemade soup simmering on the stove

if summer is fast rides in shiny, bright toys 

that make us scream with abandon and delight

autumn is long, leisurely walks 

along broken down fences to old barns barely standing

lost in thoughtful contemplation

if summer is passionate kisses, kicked off sheets and windblown hair

autumn is a tender embrace under fluffy down duvet and

a favourite wool hat pulled over wild tangles

if summer is luscious peaches and cherry stained t-shirts

autumn is crisp, crunchy crabapples eaten right off the tree

and puckered lips that follow

if summer is the sound of lapping waves and steps splashing along the shore

autumn is the swish of dried leaves kicked into the air or scrunched along the sidewalk

if summer is the song of raindrops and the call of red winged blackbirds

autumn is the frenzy of honking geese en route to a party 

perfect V's silhouetted against foggy morning skies

if summer is a spray of blossoms and petals in flirtatious, rainbow colors

autumn is blushing, red leaves and shy pinecones and marigolds peeking through frost

if summer is cool drinks in iced glasses and barefeet hopping on sizzling pavement

autumn is steamy hot chocolate and toes cozy in brown leather boots

if summer is kids out late and not to be seen for hours

autumn is family tucked a little closer while daylight slips earlier into darkness

if summer is waking with the sun on your skin

eyes wide open to a world already beckoning

autumn is a gentle stirring 

a quiet tiptoe

into a world of stillness

barely lit by crimson sunrise

and so...

while i adore summer

in all its dazzle and lustre
it is autumn.....

if i settle into it

 and let it works its magic
that soothes my soul. 

words and images © copyright melody armstrong 2015

September Rain

there's nothing like a few rainy days 

to inspire 

the shrugging on of a cozy, oversized hoodie 

and the rare indulgence 

of back to back episodes of a favourite show 

with anyone who's in the mood to watch

we've only a few evenings left 

that are gloriously unscheduled 

so perhaps we should just snuggle in

give ourselves over 

to the moody, grey clouds

and drizzled skies 

and enjoy this quiet, lazy pace 

borrowed, it seems, from a season that has 

quietly made its exit.

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2015

fall is in the air

My toenails are shiny pink -- too shiny for August's fresh-off-the-beach toes -- and the cool, dewy grass is still lush and green, but something has shifted within and without.  It feels like fall and I'm not sure I will comply just yet.  Perhaps my favourite jean jacket and boots can wait just a little while longer and I'll choose my white linen top and flip flops instead.  

There are still summer weeds in the garden yet to be pulled, and last night, after three hours of digging weeds, turning soil and planting tulips, we barbecued hamburgers and enjoyed them together on the front porch beneath the warm, low slanted rays of sun (dirt under my fingernails, and all!)

Here I am, friends.....practicing living in the moment -- whatever it brings.  For the time being, I am perfectly content to share another meal outside and give thanks for a day that began with a morning walk in the fog with a dear friend and came to a close with a stretch and one last sip of ice water from a muddy glass.  Ah....life's treasured moments.

Happy easing into fall......

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2015 (except where otherwise cited) 

letting go of summer...

my daughter...last moments of summer at the lake

from my journal just 10 days ago.....

I have already said goodbye to my family who have headed home and left me to happily finish the last of the cleanup and enjoy a final day at the lake by myself.  I am returning, just now, from a long, quiet stroll along the lake shore and I feel sad to think that summer is over.  Again, I've walked to the furthest stretch of beach I can -- all the way to the sandbars at the bend of the river's edge.  The warm splashes of water and soft press of sand in each step are a luxury I wish I could enjoy for just a while longer.  And of course, my pocket is full with a few more rock treasures to add to the growing collection on the fireplace mantle.

These daily walks along the beach, both alone and with those I love, have nourished this hungry soul of mine.  I have met with my Creator here.

it's just the swan and I......

The truth is, my mind hasn't quite caught up with the idea that summer really is coming to a close -- that daylight's long, golden rays have started yawning earlier these days, ready to take a rest from the extended hours of beautiful summer shining.  A part of me is still holding on, I think, to all that summer represents:  family, love, rest, peace, beauty, endless possibility.

Sandy Gingras, another women who loves water and beach, captured my sentiment exactly in these words:

We want to elongate the days, distill the memories, make them last.  At the same time we know that the beauty is in the evanescence....every wave comes in, then retreats.  Every day promises, then turns its back and slips away.  Every joy has a little tease in it, a give and take, and leaves a wake of longing......(from How to Live at the Beach. Emphasis mine)

Oh, yes,  "beauty is in the evanescence."  This phrase has such a profound impact on me.  If only I could really trust it to be true in the deepest parts of me, where I sometimes hold on the hardest.  And yes, how I relate to the "wake of longing" in the letting go.  Richard Paul Evans also phrased this idea so poignantly in his novel The Timepiece:  "At times I wish it were within my power to reach forth my hand and stop the moment--but in this I err.  To hold the note is to spoil the song." (Emphasis mine.)

It's eight o'clock in the evening now and I'm sitting in the sand along the water's edge.   The beach is a solitary place - just me and the gorgeous white swan I was hoping to see again, floating near the mouth of the river. There is a warm breeze teasing my frazzled, sun-bleached strands into tickles across my cheek.  The shore receives the subtle, rippled waves with a soft give -- each small lap etching a pattern further into its sandy embrace.

I am the shore.  I am supple to the shaping and moulding of all that has transpired this summer.  It leaves me feeling a little tender and vulnerable.  Each moment, happy and carefree or burdened and lonely, has etched its pattern into me.  I go home different than I came.  I have willingly reached out to new possibilities and in doing so, I have also let go.  This is good.

By the time I leave the beach tonight, the sullen sky shares no starry show...only dark, grey, billowy clouds that just might send a pitter-patter of rain song to lull me asleep.

words and images © copyright Melody Armstrong 2015 (except where otherwise cited)