Friday, August 19, 2016

X marks the spot

A wonderful day was spent at the Lanark Archives researching the family forest. I've decided to focus on the mossie branch for now. The ladies couldn't have been more helpful. One in particular spent hours loading my table without me asking. I felt she was a mini me, give a hint and away she went searching for information.

I finally resolved the original family settlement in 1845. That probably means they arrived in 1844 and spent the winter at Brockville. That will remain to be researched. However! And I'm tickled to discover the reason for the Moss School. It was built on the original settlement
of Thomas Moss which to me means that man believed in edumakation! Yes! I couldn't be happier.

Dear Eliza's last will was found and though it's thorough it's also poignant. She couldn't write so her X marks the spot of her signature. Sad that but in those days it was the norm. Along with the note of anyone having a double S in their name meant it was spelt with FS instead of SS. My head nods too.

Saturday, August 06, 2016

Frog Flower - Haiku

adrift on water
floating leaves become petals
and I its centre

green on green
sails incognito
legs are oars

sun beams warm the skin
of waning summer colours
frogs fade as flowers  

Friday, July 29, 2016

Searching for beacons

I settle onto the whicker chaise
as sun bids adieu to the day
and the moon whispers bonjour
from its celestial home.

Waiting for beacons
of the night to emerge
I become anxious as night darkens
and only the streetlamp sheds light.

Three nights I have seached,
yet there are no fireflies this year
as the earth and gardens have dried
becoming deserts of skeleton sticks.

I have lived for decades and this year
is the first without summer beacons,
where we curse the endless fall of snow,
but now it is barren and wanting of moisture

If this is the way of climate change
I feel for the children, and their children
when a simple joy of chasing fireflies
becomes a memory of their ancestors.

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Full Buck Moon - Haiku

drought baren branches
viewed through the full buck moon,
antlers reflected