covered bridges
If you follow this blog, you know how much I love covered bridges. We are so lucky in New Brunswick to have 58 remaining covered bridges, but we lose some almost every year, to vandalism, neglect, fire or flood.
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I have included covered bridges in my art for years. My first covered bridge painting was of an anonymous bridge. My dad asked me to paint a large mural (8′ x 4′) in our rec room at home and this was the result …
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‘a covered bridge in winter’ Jane Spavold (Tims)
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When I first arrived in New Brunswick, many of our local trips involved visits to covered bridges. In 1992, as a project to celebrate Canada’s 125th anniversary, my son, husband and I visited many bridges in southern New Brunswick. Last year, my husband and I found this notation on one of those bridges — our initials!
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During those days, I was busy with work and painting covered bridges was not a priority, but in 2013, I painted one rather uninspired watercolour of the Marven Covered Bridge near Sussex.
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‘Marven Covered Bridge, Kings County’ Jane Tims
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In 2015, as part of a project under artsnb (the New Brunswick’s Arts Board) and a Creations Grant, my husband and I visited 35 covered bridges, mostly in the Saint John River watershed. The results of the project are the poems and art contained in my book ‘in the shelter of the covered bridge‘ (Chapel Street editions, 2017). The cover of the book shows one of the paintings I did of the Malone Covered Bridge.
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‘apple tree, Malone Bridge’ Jane Tims
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One of the drawings for the book captured a covered bridge now lost due to carelessness, the French Village Bridge over the Hammond River.
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In the next months, based on other black and white drawings in the book, I did two more covered bridge paintings for the on-going art auction at Isaac’s Way Restaurant in Fredericton.
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‘thistles at the Malone Bridge’ Jane Tims
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‘chokecherries at the Ellis Bridge’ Jane Tims
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A neighbour of mine saw the Ellis Bridge painting and commissioned me to paint our local Patrick Owens Covered Bridge.
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‘chokecherries at the Patrick Owens Bridge’ Jane Tims
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As time goes on, I will paint other covered bridges. They are so beautiful, each a work of art and engineering. The artist’s challenge is to bring out the individuality of each bridge and illustrate its place in our history and landscape.
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All my best,
Jane Tims
first ephemeral snow
snowflakes
absorbed by wet pavement
as though
they never existed at all
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all my best,
Jane
Jack-o-lanterns
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pumpkins, anonymous Jack-o-lanterns
huddle in snow, flakes melt
and tears slide down
undifferentiated
cheeks
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people pass by and fail
to recognize
featureless
family
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Happy Hallowe’en
Jane
sampling a story
This week, my new book Meniscus: Karst Topography is out. Follow the continuing adventures of the Humans at Themble Hill … aliens have taken Kathryn, Meghan, Vicki and Madoline from the Village and the Slain go on a dangerous rescue mission to Prell. But at least two of the women don’t need to be rescued … they have found their own ways to get the better of the Dock-winders.
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Did you know you do not have to purchase the book if you are part of KU (Kindle Unlimited) and KOLL (Kindle Owners’ Lending Library). Just go to Amazon and read a sample of the book before you decide to buy or not. This is a support for authors since authors are paid by KDP for pages read. https://www.amazon.ca/dp/1548434396
Thank you so much for trying out my new book or any of the series.
All my best,
Jane (a.k.a. Alexandra)
Small miracles
As I go through life, I occasionally encounter oddities so unexpected I think of them as small miracles. At least my interpretation is that some unseen force is at work, sending me messages of hope and faith.
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After my mom died, a small yellow warbler came to our window for most of the first year, an example of the kind of messaging I mean.
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Today I saw a small miracle, in a pot on the railing of the back deck. Although we have had several frosts, and although I have not planted pansies in the pot for at least three years, a little pansy plant was blooming in the pot.
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I am a biologist, so I know these things can be explained away. There was a stray pansy seed in the pot. Pansies are hardy plants. The house wall was only a few centimetres away, protecting the pot from frost. I know these things but my interpretation stands. And I have only gratitude.
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All my best,
Jane (a.k.a. Alexandra)
Authors Coffee House October 25
Looking forward to another of our Authors Coffee Houses. Chuck Bowie, author of the Donovan: Thief for Hire Series, will be reading from his work-in-progress:
‘When Emma returns to small town New Brunswick to manage the Manse Arts Centre, she assumes the tenants will be the challenge. And then people start dying…’
Blighty’s – a taste of yesterday
In Fredericton, we seem particularly sensitive to the city’s past. Since I have only lived in this area about 40 years, I often don’t remember landmarks familiar to those who have lived here most of their lives. My husband who was born here often points out the location of landmarks that no longer exist.
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When I asked him about Blighty’s, memories surfaced right away. When he was 12 or 13, Blighty’s was a regular part of the week. After church on Sundays, Blighty’s was the first stop on the way home. He remembers it as a crowded spot, always busy. It was little more than a small shack, with eight or more people working inside, waiting on people or preparing food.
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Blighty’s used fresh-cut potatoes for their French fries. My husband remembers the smell of grease and the bright coloured light bulbs strung on wire. He also remembers that everything tasted delicious.
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Drive up, stand at wicket, get a number and wait until called. Everyone in the family ordered fish and chips (one or two big pieces) and a bottle of pop. The food was served on paper plates, sized for the meal, and a bottle of ketchup sat on the counter. There were a couple of picnic tables but they always ate in the car. At the end of the meal, there was a big barrel for the garbage.
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Blighty’s underwater in the flood of 1973 (Source: New Brunswick Archives)
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David Watts, a friend from my writing group Fictional Friends also remembers Blighty’s and he has captured the spot in one of his image-rich poems. David is a photographer and writer. He has contributed posts to CommuterLit here and keeps our Fictional Friends writing group moving in the direction of learning. David is also one of the organizers of Odd Sundays, a reading venue for writers in the Frederiction area.
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David says:
my love of words and how they work has been a life-long passion
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I hope you enjoy David’s memories of Blighty’s …
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Thank you David for taking us back to Blighty’s!
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All my best,
Jane
