Mango Twilight

It happened a couple months ago and I don't know why I waited, but the time is... now.

Ironically, it was because the electric storm thwarted our electricity that I found myself relaxing: witnessing the most amazing light show I have ever seen.

The sun was heading for brighter lands. The thunder still sounded in the distance, the rain was still softly falling, and the last of the dilated orange sun dangled a rainbow in the evening sky. The clouds overhead soon stopped their weeping and the sun slipped out of sight. Something lingered. Elusive light mingled around. I thought it was bright - until I tried to see. I thought it was dark - until I soaked up the glow. Everything was drenched in orange light. Long ago should the land and sky have been dark, but they refused to be. On and on it lasted. And on and on I watched. The trees, the sky, the clouds, the grass, the fresh rain; all were saturated in light. But the source was gone. It was half-light. No shadows, no glare, no distinct light or dark; nothing describes it better than glow.

The earth slowly diffused its light and the program ended. I think the answer lies in the clouds, quite literally. The clouds that initially covered the sun were the same clouds that reflected the sun's rays long after I could see them. In the simplest sense, they were a mirror. 

I always knew I liked indirect lighting.

Catching Up

Oh, oh, where to begin! And what to write! Soon August will stop "laughing across the sky" and the "still September fleetness" will begin. I think I'm ready for it, too. 

Our vacation was wonderful; we even came up with a motto for it: houseboats rock! Actually, for a few days after we returned to land, everything rocked. I have to say it's the oddest sensation to be sitting in a restaurant, but feeling like you're bobbing about on the water. Kind of creepy! 

Sailing Through My Mind

I've gone "Sailboats"-ing the past few nights. On some nights there are far too many interesting memories and perspectives to explore to waste any time in sleep. And so I let myself go drifting through my mind. Many memories and ideas bob to the surface of my thoughts like glowing orbs, and I float around, exploring them as I please. (It's kinda like Google Street View.) Some orbs are lonely, some are shockingly new, others are like old friends, and some are just... uniquely entertaining. Of course, some make me wish I had never ventured into this vast sea. However, a few memories that began poorly have become well-aged, and they plunge me into delightful laughter. These voyages leave me laden with many curios. I usually just leave them scattered around where I can trip over them during the day. Luckily, I've only stubbed my toe once or twice.

I think if someone told me I was weird, I'd be the first person to agree with them. Ok, now that was really weird. But no matter... Do you know what? God loves you and me, not in spite of who we are, but because of who we are. You see, we were His idea in the first place.

Big Little Orchestra

You don't have to pay a penny to hear it; just a bit of your time. Until this year, I had no idea that the big little orchestra didn't start until late summer. Since it's that season now, though, I hear it all the time: while sitting and reading, while driving in the evening, or while dozing off at night.

"A stream of tender gladness,
Of filmy sun, and opal tinted skies;
Of warm midsummer air that lightly lies
In mystic rings,
Where softly swings 
The music of a thousand wings 
That almost tones to sadness."

     E. Pauline Johnson

The verse above is from the poem "Shadow River: Muskoka." The italicized lines mention the big little orchestra: big in the area it covers, little in the size of its members. This verse scatters delicious chills all over my skin... The second verse, not shown here, points to the future, to a time when I will "float upon a sapphire floor." I can hardly wait.

Encounter with Water

Water. Lots of it. More excess than you can imagine. Enough to submerge yourself until its cool watery-ness flows over you. It stretches on and on, farther than you can see and glows deep blue: a reflection of the sky. It constantly moves; flows, ebbs, swoops, drops, and splashes. What a unique substance! Thicker than the sky, thinner than the land. Playful and menacing at the same time.

We went to the lake in the middle of the day yesterday, which we don't do very often. The wind created some waves for once, and I could have spent all day bobbing up and down on them. But I didn't. Thank goodness I didn't have to swim for eighteen hours like a pilot did recently after his small aircraft ran out of fuel! 

Did you know that if the water from Lake Superior was spread out evenly over North and South America, these two continents would be covered in 30cm (1 foot) of water?

Gift of Grace

Why do blog inspirations come at the most unseeming times? Like when you're trying to wind down and go to sleep, but ideas refuse to be calmed. Sometimes the number of intricately connected ideas would take the whole night to conquer and record... 

"And of His fullness we have all received, and grace for grace." John 1:16

Do you comprehend how much we rely on God for righteousness? Do I? The verse above says that if it weren't for God's grace, we couldn't even receive God's grace. We are so sinful that of ourselves, we aren't capable of obtaining God's gift of forgiveness. In my battle with God against the devil, I have come to realize that either I can use God's grace to keep me from sin, or I can use it to forgive me from sin. That doesn't give me license to sin when I want to and expect my relationship with God to remain strong. Rather, it shows that in the end, whatever my actions, it's God's grace that saves me. Whether I sin or not, I still use God's gift of grace.

"Gift." I have come to love that word. I am completely incapable of repayment or justification for God's grace and blessings that He gives me. Recently, I have wondered why I haven't been very happy. I would work hard to find happiness in the experiences around me. Now I am beginning to realize that happiness doesn't come from "out there." It comes from inside; it is a gift from God. Of course, when I realize that happiness is a gift, I realize that all the little things in life (like the beautiful weather) are gifts as well, and suddenly my happiness and thankfulness increases exponentially. Why? Because God has given me the grace to use His grace.

Int'resting Life

Like Marigold says in Magic for Marigold, "Life is so int'resting!" This past weekend was particularly "int'resting," as it was spent with about two hundred people between the ages of fifteen and twenty-three in Ohio, U.S.

I had no idea how much I valued originality until this past weekend. At one service centre, forty percent of the people were wearing the same type of sandal. It made me want to go buy a pair of my own right away! Gag.

And that is only one of the many thoughts rumbling around in my head that started at this gathering. Another one is my thankfulness for being back in the country where people understand my humour. Quite a few times, after spewing a random comment, I would find myself sitting in silence while the rest of my group would look at me as though they didn't know what to do. Just laugh, ding-dong! Vocabulary is another source of difference. Oh, the poor people who don't use words like serviette, courier, and toque!

I have a feeling that this weekend's experiences will strongly affect me; its influence will pop up all over my blog. Only you probably won't recognize it. I will, though, and so I'll chuckle to myself as I write.

Hop, Skip, and a Jump

You're probably wondering about the title of this post. Well, keep wondering a little longer.

Ever been an air traffic controller? Me neither. But I've used this wonderful online simulator. Some days, it feels like I'm an air traffic controller for the radar of my life. Mostly when my job and personal life get really hectic and I need to coordinate fourteen random things that are happening at once. "Air Canada one-twenty-two, descent three thousand." lol

The Tour de France is well on its way. This race is so difficult that most of the riders focus on finishing the race, rather than placing first. Only the elite can dream of covering the 3,400 km in the shortest time. The effect this race had on me is amazing, and I'm still elated. A few days ago I managed to maintain an average speed of 30 km/h over a circuit route for the first time! I have a long way to go before I reach the speeds of the professionals. On similar routes, they can achieve an average speed of over 50 km/h!

In some ways I feel sorry for those cyclists, though. As much as I like cycling on the side, I couldn't enjoy it in the amounts they handle it. It seems to be their life. I have to wonder, "What about playing tennis, or swimming, or watching fireworks with friends, or driving to work in the morning, or falling in love with summer, or, or, or." The list stretches on. So I'll cheer them on and not envy them even a little.

I finished Rilla of Ingleside recently. It seems different from many of L. M. Montgomery's books. This one is far from idealistic. It takes place during World War I, and nothing could be less perfect. Yet it captures my imagination. I am so glad I don't have to face the fear and worry that these brave people had to face every day on the home front.

Did you know that William Stephenson was an introvert? Maybe you don't know him by that name. He was also called Little Bill and Intrepid. During World War II this Canadian was one of the most important Allied intelligence commanders. I've only read about two chapters into one of his biographies, but I can tell already.

And now back to the title. I had all these unconnected thoughts. So instead of carefully organizing them, I let them lump together. Happy leaping!

After the Pressure

Here's a video of... actually, I'll let you discover what it's about. Click here.

O Canada

In honour of Canada Day, I'm posting the lyrics of our national anthem in their original language - French.  Surprisingly enough, the English lyrics that we know so well aren't a literal translation at all. Anyway, these words were written by Lieutenant Governor of Quebec Théodore Robitaille in 1880. Enjoy!

Ô Canada!
Terre de nos aïeux,
Ton front est ceint de fleurons glorieux!
Car ton bras sait porter l'épée,
Il sait porter la croix!
Ton histoire est une épopée
Des plus brillants exploits.
Et ta valeur, de foi trempée,
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits.
Protégera nos foyers et nos droits.

And this is what a literal translation looks like:

O Canada!
Land of our forefathers,
Thy brow is wreathed with a glorious garland of flowers.
As is thy arm ready to wield the sword,
So also is it ready to carry the cross.
Thy history is an epic
Of the most brilliant exploits.
Thy valour steeped in faith
Will protect our homes and our rights
Will protect our homes and our rights