Stories in Mist




Dawn creeps through the mist, stealing night’s solitude.

Mist settling in between notes of soft music drifts through the room and out into the valley.

Between now and then is the shadow of self… wavering slightly in our imagination.

Sprout question: What stories are your soft edges telling?

© 2010 Terrill Welch, All rights reserved.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

Going to the Beach House

If there was ever a house that fulfilled all the requirements of a beach house it is this one. It is not my beach house. I only borrow it when I walk along this particular beach. I fear that, during a winter storm, a high tide will take it out to sea. But each time I return, the beach house is still there, as if taunting its precarious position along the eroding shoreline.

I sometimes imagine the vacation drama of the residents. Maybe they have had a squabble and he comes and sits in a chair on the porch, brooding over his hurts, with his smoldering heavy-lidded eyes gazing out to sea. Or maybe a fine meal of crab from their crab nets has been savoured and they bring their guests out on the porch as the sun sets, swirling and sipping deep red wine, in over large glasses. Then she offers to make fresh ground dark roast coffee to go with a blackberry crumb and homemade ice-cream. The spell breaks. The guests realized they have become chilled in the evening air. One by one they retreat again, into the warmth of the spacious beach house.

I like to admire this dwelling from the public sands, making up these stories fitting for such a splendid beach house. My musings, as I map these scenarios, feel just a little like trespassing through a church yard. It is public space but I know I am walking on sacred ground.

Sprout Question: What stories are amusing you?

© 2010 Terrill Welch, All rights reserved.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

Talking Bread Loaves PART 3

View and purchase full resolution image here.

Blossoms are everywhere. It is spring in Victoria and it is Friday. What can possibly be better than this?

PART 3 and the conclusion of “Talking Bread Loaves” If you missed part one you can read part it  here and part two here.

After about an hour I help mom punch the bread dough down and she makes the loaves and sets them to rise for a second time. This is when the magic really begins. Mom starts adding “just the right sticks” of wood to the stove and every so often she places her arm in the oven. Each time she checks, I ask “Does it feel right yet?” I’m amazed that she can tell when the temperature is “right” to put the loaves in to bake. Soon she is carefully placing four loaves into the oven. I find something to do at the kitchen table so I don’t miss what I count on happening next.

I have enough time to draw two horse pictures, one barn picture and part of a chicken coop before mom opens the oven door. She lifts a loaf carefully up to her ear. I stand breathlessly beside her.

Looking intently at the frown on her face I ask “what did it say mom? What did it say?”

In a deep gravelly voice she answers “put me back in.” and just a little louder over my giggles, she continues “I’m not ready yet.”

Each loaf is lifted up in turn. In sing-song notes the next loaf responds “well, I think I’m cooked” followed by its close companion who complains “don’t be in such a hurry. I’m raw in the middle.” Then the fourth one replies with a shiver “burrrrr, close the oven door, it’s getting cold in here.”

As the first loaves finish cooking, more wood is added to the stove and the next four loaves are again carefully placed in the oven. All eight loaves have something to say when mom lifted them to her ear. There wasn’t a silent loaf in the bunch.

Sprout Question: What makes you giggle that child-belly-laugh when you imagine it?

The very best of  Friday to you and I hope you have a wonderful weekend… and take some time out for a good giggle. It does wonders for releasing creative energy.

© 2010 Terrill Welch, All rights reserved.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch

Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada