Fall Colours

This morning the bite of fall greets my bare feet as they make their way downstairs. I light my first morning fire of the season, happy to feel the heat leap to my face as the thin timbers become engulfed in an orange glow. 

Earlier this week I was content to be back splitting wood and organizing the pile that will keep me warm thorough the long winter months. There is a rhythm to splitting wood, a Zen quality where your mind grows blank as you swing the splitting maul, eventually hitting the right spot and opening the log as easily as unfolding a book on your lap.

Luckily I have a friend with a chainsaw and a faller’s license who is responsible for taking down the snags (trees that have died but are still standing) at the Kingdom Lakes Campsite nearby and doesn't mind helping me stock up on firewood. One more truckload and I should have wood to spare at the end of the season. Better to have too much, as collecting it when the ground is snow-laden would not be fun!

Last fall I remember walking with Sanford, both of us new to the trails that lead away from town into the hills. I remember thinking how beautiful the fall was here, how the golden leaves of the trembling aspen line the ground in colour, how the brush at our feet was painted the colour of a rich autumn sunset. I remember thinking that I would like to experience fall here again, and here I am.

 Logging off the Hurley. This was last fall, but there is lots of new activity there this year.

Water over what used to be a bridge.

I have been doing a lot of reflecting on my teaching practice and on the daily interactions between myself, the students, the experiences of us all in school, and this has left me with less time to keep up with the blogging. It’s a necessary part of my job, though, being able to think about what went well and what I would change, or what a student may need, what their behaviour may be telling me, where they are with a given task and what they need to push their learning deeper. It is absolutely amazing to be able to observe and think about the learning of so few students; an opportunity for deep reflection that few teachers have.

I have also been going out on my evening walks with Sanford and on long bike rides. Yesterday I phoned a few people to see if I could interest anyone in a mountain bike, with no success, so I just went out on my own again. When riding on my own I do not take any thrilling downhill routes, but stick to the logging roads with a sense of exploration. As I pedaled out of town I thought about how I feel completely comfortable doing things on my own, and this is why I have been able to thrive out here.  When there is no one else to join you then you just have to do what you want anyways, or else you will sit on a heap on the couch instead of being out in nature.

Sanford waits patiently for the photographer to finish :)

I have also been working on some paintings, creating a stain-glass window out of some beach glass I found in Oregon, writing stories here and there. I got a book from the library entitled How to Avoid Making Art (or Anything Else You Enjoy) which is a series of cartoons with captions written by Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, about how to get stuck in the pitfalls all artists (and many people for that matter) experience. A number of the cartoons resonated with me, so I copied a small collection to post around my little art studio as reminders. Right now I am looking at one that says “Demand 15 hours of free time to create, so you can ignore the 15 minutes you’ve got.” The second says “Slide into despair rather than take one small exploratory action.”

One small exploratory action at a time. That is how art is created. And using all the minutes you can steal from the day.

I’ve started playing the guitar again. Not sure if I already mentioned this. It was something I hoped to start upon moving up here, but then I became frustrated at my lack of progress and gave it up for a few months before going back to it this fall. Now I have learned a whole song, “Simple Man” by Lynyrd Skynyrd, and can play two originals that I wrote last year. I think I have realized that sometimes I just need a break from something before going back with a fresh spirit, and the workshop with Diego taught me that all creative pursuits use the same skills of exploration and open-mindedness; a sense of play threads their way through them all. They all relate, freeing me up to continue to be interested in tons of different things without the pressure to stick to just one. I am a dabbler, and it is great to feel an ease and contentment in this.

Well, it’s Friday and I’m off for a morning mountain bike with my friend Ian. Part of my family is arriving for a visit this weekend: my parents and my youngest sister. They have both visited before, my parents helping me move from Lillooet, and Stephanie staying here for a couple of nights before I had  really gotten settled. It’ll be nice to have them here now that I have an established life. I’m sure they will understand why I am so content here once I whisk them away on adventure after mountain adventure all weekend long.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!