A Gentle Rain

A gentle rain fell ~

for the wedding party that

had graced this empty lawn ~

beautifully coifed hair softened

graceful gowns dampened

the photographer closed her lenses

and collapsed her equipment,

rows of wooden chairs folded

to be stored for a sunny day

guests with few umbrellas

strolled back to their cars.

All that remained of life in the park

the colourful play structure beyond the trees,

the aroma of barbecue, laughter 

and soft chatter of friends and families.

A gentle rain fell.

“The best thing one can do when it’s raining it to let it rain.”

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

One Summer Afternoon

Kiwanis Park, Regina

A gentle waterfall

to a turquoise pool

A quaint little bridge

in a beautiful little park

A group of new friends

gather on a cool summer day.

Kiwanis Park, Regina

“Since there is nothing so 

well worth having as friends, 

never lose a chance 

to make them.”

~ Francesco Guicciardini

 

On a Morning Walk - Wind Dance

delicate pink flowers

like gentle souls 

dance in the morning wind

“Wild roses are fairest, and nature a better gardener than art.”

~ Louisa May Alcott

Chapter Two, Episode Thirty-Eight - Oh, What a Web - Situationally Theirs

Oh, What a Web

Martha and James Digby were walking home from work. “James, I hardly know what to do anymore. I’m the Housekeeper for this big old place and I barely know what to do anymore. Remember when Mr. Michael was alive and Miss Emelina was the belle of the ball? Always busy and we never knew when she would phone me at 4:30 in the afternoon to tell me she needed a dinner party for six by 7 p.m. Brigitte would just have gone home and I’d have to call her back to clean the dining room - even if she had cleaned it the day before. Elizabeth always had a dinner menu in her apron pocket that she could whip up in no time. A dessert in the freezer that she would have thawed and decorated quick as anything. You would be getting out your butler outfit - oh, you always looked so handsome. I could hardly take my eyes off you - but I did, so I could get the silver, china and linens set.” Martha sighed. Arm in arm with James, she leaned her head on his shoulder a tear in her eye. 

James was quiet. Should tell her he had seen Miss Emelina earlier that day with some personnel files just before she rushed upstairs? “Oh, James, I’ve taken some personnel files. Just so you don’t miss them. I’ll put them back when I’ve looked at them.” He patted his wife’s arm. “Those were good days, weren’t they dear. Some of them pretty long though. So you thought I was handsome? You never said anything.” He hoped that she hadn’t noticed the frown rippling his brow. “Of course, I never said anything. At least not to you.” Martha blushed at the thought. “Is that why you and Elizabeth seemed always to be whispering. And here I thought it was the roast she cooked or the silver you were polishing.” 

“Why did you get so quiet, James? You look troubled - and you thought I wouldn’t notice. Aren’t the flowers beautiful?” Martha pointed across the estate to the rhododendrons by their cottage. “Yes, my dear, they are lovely - as lovely as you are. My troubles are nothing for you to worry about. Just some files that need to be put in order. Tell me about your plans for the reception that never was, Martha.”

“Well I haven’t got it all worked out yet, but I want something spontaneous. I already have Miss  Dez prepared to keep her sister and brother-in-law away when it’s time. Everything else will be the same - Elizabeth will get food ready. If we can eat outside, Samuel and Giles will help with setting up the tables and a canopy. Brigitte - well I don’t have anything for her right now, but I’m sure I’ll need her. Now - let’s leave work at work and enjoy the evening.”

~~~~~

Emelina breathed a sigh of relief. She put the files on the dining room table and flopped in the nearest chair. Her accountant, Mr. Winston, was beginning to work on the changes she’d requested. He wasn’t certain, but he felt the Estate finances would support them. They agreed that should he find any glitches, he would revise the plans but only after he spoke with her. Emelina swore him to secrecy. All he could say, and only if James asked, was that he was doing the usual annual review of some files. “I’m rather uncomfortable with that, Mrs.Beaufort - I mean, Mrs. Crawford. I don’t believe I ever congratulated you on your marriage. I wish you both a long and happy marriage.” Mr. Winston hesitated. “But back to your request. James and I have worked together on estate business for years. We’ve never kept anything from each other.” He stood up, moving away from his desk to the window.

 “Mr. Winston, I understand that this must be difficult for you, but it will only be for a short time. These people are all so good to me, good for me. I only want the best for them. If there is something you need to share with James, please call me first. I would like this to be a surprise for them if at all possible.” Emelina was nervous, certain she was making a mistake. She had never conducted any business without someone with her. But Jeremy was working all week and Brigitte would not be back until the next week. 

Mr. Winston recognized her discomfort. “I’m sure everything will work out just fine. I'll be certain to call you should James asks any awkward questions. You are doing a good thing, Mrs. Crawford. I think that Mr. Beaufort would be proud of you for taking this on. If James has any questions, I’m sure I can field them successfully.”

Emelina was exhausted. After she had presented her very loose plans, her accountant asked her when she last reviewed the Personnel Files and payment schedules. She felt so foolish. When she and Brigitte had started working together, she had tried. With no purpose, she let go of it. Mr. Winston had given her some guidelines for a new review. He didn’t really think she needed much more than the payment schedules. Emelina agreed that her relationship with her staff was very personal and knew little of their financial relationship. She remembered his last words “You’ll be a better employer for it, Mrs. Crawford.” 

She turned to her work. The top file was Martha's. She was to look for any raises, especially cost of living, when they were given and what they were due. “I think I'd better get some coffee up here and something to snack on.”

“All things are ready, if our mind be so.”

~ William Shakespeare, Henry V

Empty Nest

 Photo taken June 7th, just 8 days ago.

Just a few egg shells and surrounded by green grass. No stray feathers. No evidence of what happened to the goose I had named Gertrude. She had been nesting between a sidewalk and parking lot with no shelter for well over the usual nesting time of 28 days. She had no obvious mate in sight, but she couldn’t have lasted that long without relief. My fear is that she did not survive. My hope is that our heat and rain storms did not melt or dampen her commitment. Did she manage to take one, or maybe more, goslings to safety? We'll never know.

“You always have two choices: your commitment versus your fear.”

~ Sammy Davis Jr.

. 

At the Bus Stop

The heat slid from the trees into the glassy shade of the bus stop.

Walkers slowed their pace

A cyclist rode into the summer.

Heavy trucks, cars and pickups rumbled into the city centre

The hiss and squeal of the #3

signaled the arrival of air-conditioning.

“Write in different places - for example, 

in a laundromat, and pick up on the rhythm 

of the washing machine. Write at bus stops, in cafés. 

Write what is going on around you.”

~ Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones: Feeing the Writer Within

A Melodrama

My coach told me about plateauing ~

relief between 

slogging up and stumbling down 

breathing easy on the flat, 

a cool down recharge without becoming

a couch potato ~ for very long ~ within the boring, frightening flatness of a plateau, 

slipping and sliding into home
with questionable balance, 

reminding me where my feet are! 

If I should faceplant into stinky stagnant waters it’s definitely time to head for the showers! (or at least wash my face)

“Living alone, with no one to consult or talk to, one might easily become 

melodramatic, and imagine things which had no foundation in fact.”

~ Agatha Christie, Murder is Easy