Archive for January 2018
ordinary magic
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Although I am a biologist and understand that even the magical can usually be described in concrete terms, I prefer to not try to ‘puzzle out’ at least some of the ‘magic’ in my life. After all, what is more delightful and truly mysterious than a six-sided snowflake, the pattern of veins in a basil leaf, the smell of lavender at bedtime, the pungent, cold-busting taste of turmeric, or a line in a movie that brings tears to your eyes.
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When I wrote the poem below, I was playing Dungeons and Dragons regularly and keeping watch for the magical in life. I still have the small blue jar with the magical false bottom.
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ordinary magic
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small blue jar
emptied of face cream
has a false bottom when held to the light
a bright inverted inner shell
hovers untouchable
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the peel of an orange
spurts flammable oil
cantrips of fire
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press a shell to your ear
murmur of ocean
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
Pokiok Falls
Pokiok Stream, about 2011
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On one of our family summer excursions across Canada, my parents stopped along the highway in New Brunswick to see the Pokiok Falls near Nackawick. I remember the white churn of water below me, so steep it looked like the water was falling into a pipe. In 1967 the Mactaquac Dam submerged the falls and now they are only a memory, visible on old post cards and in photo albums.
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For a fictionalized account of the changes resulting from the building of the Mactaquac Dam, read Riel Nason’s excellent coming-of-age book ‘The Town That Drowned‘ (Goose Land Editions, 2011).
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Pokiok Falls
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my mother held me at the railing
to see the Pokiok
plunge
from highway
to river
granite pipe
roiling water
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later, when the dam went in
they moved the churches
to higher ground
so the church bells
wouldn’t gurgle
when they rang
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now the river slips sideways a notch
to fill the round drowning of the falls
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water cannot fall within water
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I cried when I left
I hadn’t seen the pokioks
I said
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
free book – Meniscus: Crossing the Churn
Want a quick read? A chance to explore a distant planet with two spirited characters? The first book in my science-fiction adventure series Meniscus: Crossing the Churn (Kindle version) is available for free for the next five days on Kindle. From January 27 to January 31, you can meet Odymn and the Slain, and learn about their meeting and their first travels together across the landscapes of planet Meniscus.
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From the dangerous streets of Prell-nan to the dark woods of the Themble, this is a dystopian adventure, set on a planet where Humans are slaves to an alien race. Their only hope for freedom is to work together, foraging for their food, running from the nasty Dock-winders and battling the wild life. The only way to survive will be in their growing love for one another.
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A sample from the story …
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She watches the fire,
the space where flames
feign glowing eyes.
The creature speaks and she startles,
then knows the words are the endless friction
of two close-growing limbs of banyan.
High pitched squeal, low grown.
She peers at the Slain.
“I’m Odymn,” she says,
points to the place
between her breasts,
the now-charred microchip.
Points at him.
“Who are you?”
Emphasis on ‘who’ and ‘you’.
Unwavering stare.
His eyes not black, but amethyst,
dark rings around the iris.
At the edges a pale film,
nictitating membrane.
Long lashes.
“Odymn,” she says.
“Named by my father.
“Rare earth metal, Neodymium.
Atomic number 60. Silvery,
soft, tarnishes in air.
“Common as copper.
Makes a reddish dye,
colour of my hair.
“Now you,” and points at his chest.
Blue sparks snap to the tip of her finger.
Faint vibration through hand, along arm,
deep into torso.
Penetrating stare.
Lazy double blink.
Membrane and lashes close and open.
“OK. I’ll choose a name for you.
Daniel. Or James.
Not quite right, too common.
“You need an alien name.
Something deep from Dock-winder mythology.
Amblyn, god of fire. Or De-al, water-weld.”
Steady stare. Double blink.
One hand lifts. One finger raised to lips.
Be silent.
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To get a free Kindle version of Meniscus: Crossing the Churn (from January 27 to January 31), just click on the book icon in the margin. This will take you to the Amazon website where you can get a free copy downloaded to your Kindle device.
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If you like Meniscus: Crossing the Churn, you will love the continuing adventures of Odymn and the silent Slain – Meniscus: South from Sintha, Meniscus: Winter by the Water-climb and the newest book Meniscus: One Point Five – Forty Missing Days, available January 31, 2018.
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
ghost stories
Although I hesitate to write this post, I am trying to go through my older poems and think about them a little. The next one on the list (I am working backwards through the alphabet) is called ‘visitations’. The subject matter is a bit ghostly.
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I do not generally believe in ghosts although I do believe in phenomena if that makes sense. A phenomenon is defined as a fact or situation that is observed to exist or happen, especially one whose cause or explanation is in question.
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I have experienced many phenomena in my life. Odd things that seem to have some particular significance at the time. My mother, who also had such experiences, called them “comforts from heaven.”
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Here are a couple of examples from my own life:
- After my mom died, a little yellow bird came almost every day to peck at our windows (not a goldfinch, in spite of the drawing below). After that year, I never saw it again.
- Once I bought a handmade quilt at an auction and laid it over our upper loft railing. One night I came out to the hall in the dark, touched the quilt and heard the following words, quite distinctly: “Henry, come in to supper!” I don’t know anyone named Henry.
- When she was alive, my aunt and I had a contest to see who could lose the most weight. My aunt told me to pick an item from her home as the ‘prize’. I know she was disappointed when I chose a little framed picture of a waterfall she had won as a prize in Sunday School in 1937. Neither of us lost any weight so the prize was never claimed. After her death, we retrieved some boxes from her estate. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I opened the box in the trunk of my car and the little picture of the waterfall was the top item.
- Once when I was staying away from home, I heard the front door open and footsteps, crossing the tile floor. I expected to see someone else and instead a little girl with ringlets came into my view, reached up for the doorknob of the adjacent bedroom and went inside. There were no children in the house at the time and I was terrified.
- My husband had his own weird experience on our local covered bridge. He was crossing the narrow bridge one day in our truck and was alarmed to see another car enter the bridge. He was certain there would be a crash but the other car, an older V-8 model, squeezed right by. My husband, knowing there was no way two vehicles could pass in the bridge, had to stop the truck at the other side of the bridge, he was shaking so hard.
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Now every one of these experiences could be explained. Probably a vivid imagination is part of that explanation. But I do believe in the phenomenon. Have you had any experiences of your own?
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visitations
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moonlight on birch
stark shadows
words precise on the page
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her tread heavy
she reaches for the door
opens, ringlets close as a spring
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lengthen, what else is possible?
hand touches a quilt, a voice asks
a practical question, distilled in velvet
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a small yellow bird
at the window
every morning for a year
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
herb growing in winter
For Christmas, my husband bought me an Aerogarden – a way to grow herbs and other plants hydroponically. My garden has been set up for 19 days and has five plant pods underway – two basil, one parsley, one mint and one thyme. The sixth pod is having some troubles but is now replanted with more basil. I will keep you up to date on my garden’s progress!
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
spirit guide
As a biologist, I believe that human beings are fundamentally connected to the natural world. We are part of that world. To live, we need to eat and drink and breathe. We respond to the cycles of climate and weather.
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I believe, to be whole, we need to experience nature on a daily basis. In winter it is so easy to hide within our warm houses and pretend we are immune. But when I have hibernated for a few days, I start to long for a snowflake on my tongue, the glimpse of a bird, the sound of ice cracking on the lake. I need fresh air, a moment spent counting the sides on a flake of snow, the dripping of maple sap into a metal pail, the chortle of a black crow, flying overhead.
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Call me crazy, but sometimes I am certain our connection with nature is one of communication. I am stopped by the knowing look of my cat staring at me as if she cannot understand my lack of understanding. I ask for a prayer to be answered and hear the low tremolo of a loon from the lake. I am startled by the constant return of a yellow bird to the window in the months after my mother dies. I watch my hand painting detail in a landscape and am amazed at how a white line can capture the essence of a leaf.
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I also feel kinship with a particular animal. Some days it seems to express my disgruntlement with life. Other days, my joy. When I think of sound, the first sound I remember is the beat of wings on overhead air.
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spirit guide
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after the proper length of fast
after the proper exposure to fire
I open my eyes
but I see no animal spirit
only black
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I listen
silence
unless you count the compression
of a single beat of wing
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I stretch and feel the atmosphere
detached
partitioned by sharpened feather fingers
and the zigzag trail
of some multi-legged crawler
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my mouth is filled
with the down
of fallen angels
(also feathered black)
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the stink of burning quills
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where is a crow
when you need to experience
more than the characteristics of crow?
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
renewal
Here we are in chill January. Days of snow and freezing rain, bitter cold and flooding and loss. Days when we don’t get enough sun to fill our requirement for Vitamin D. Days when summer seems so far away.
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As a retired person, my days are neither hectic nor sorrowful. My hours are filled with writing, painting, drawing, time on social media and an occasional meeting. I can go outside any time I want to get my dose of sunshine (if available). My stresses are few.
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Once life was not so easy. I worked long days and often came home tired and in a bad mood. But my husband and son made my days wonderful. I found this poem in my files, a testament to the way our families can inject hope into a slogging day! I wrote the poem in 2010, a couple of years before I retired.
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Renewal is possible
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I am entirely new today
some aspect of morning
has cast just-born skin
on me
the song sung by the kettle
the taste of the tea
the forecast of snow
the way you said goodbye
more like the promise of hello
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most days lately
have tears at all the edges
too much to do
too little time
late nights
mugs of coffee, half-gulped
clocks and messages despised
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through the day
I have waited for
old disappointments
to discover my face
but my noon coffee
has a hint of chocolate
and all my emails
are smile-embedded
and one of them from you
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my husband getting pussy willows for me …
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
Authors Coffee House – a reading and book signing by Ian LeTourneau!
I hope you can join us for the Authors Coffee House on January 26 (Friday) at noon in Nasonworth (see poster) to hear readings from Ian LeTourneau, well-known poet and Cultural Laureate for the City of Fredericton. Ian will read from his books Terminal Moraine and Core Sample. You can also enjoy a hot lunch of soup , rolls, and dessert.
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More than a year ago our church, Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Nasonworth New Brunswick, began the Authors Coffee House as a way of reaching out to the community. Once every two months we have gathered to meet new people in the community and celebrate the work of a local author. So far we have heard from Roger Moore, Shari Andrews, Nick Guitard, John Leroux and Jane Tims (me). The Authors Coffee House includes a reading from the featured author, a chance to buy a signed book and a free will and/or author donation to a local charity. Charities benefiting from this event have included Grace House for Women, Fredericton Food Bank, Fredericton Community Foundation, Fredericton Hospice and the Uganda Outreach project of Holy Trinity Anglican Church.
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Nicholas Guitard speaks to an attentive audience about New Brunswick’s waterfalls (Authors Coffee House, May, 2017)
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Ian Letourneau is our guest author for January, 2018.
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Ian LeTourneau, reading his poetry
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Ian is Poetry Editor of The Fiddlehead ( a renowned literary magazine), the Cultural Laureate for the City of Fredericton, Chair of Word Feast – Fredericton’s Literary Festival, and an avid supporter of the writing community in Fredericton. He is also a wonderful poet with three books of poetry: Core Sample (Frog Hollow Press, 2017), Terminal Moraine (Thistledown Press, 2008) and Defining Range (Gaspereau Press, 2006). I know Ian as a great teacher, having taken a course from him at the Maritime Writers Workshop. I also love his poetry – it sparkles with images from the natural world. His beautiful poem Murmuration: Starlings on the St. John River is on display beside the walking path along the St. John River in Fredericton.
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image from mutualresponsibility.org
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If you live in the Fredericton area, I hope you will come to the next Authors Coffee House, January 26, 2018 at noon at Holy Trinity Anglican Church in Nasonworth. Hear Ian read, buy a signed copy of one of his books, contribute to Ian’s chosen charity the Friends of the Fredericton Public Library and enjoy a hot lunch (soup, rolls, coffee or tea and dessert). I hope I will see you there!
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
Malone Covered Bridge – Isaac’s Way Art Auction
One of my favorite covered bridges is the Malone Bridge (Kennebecasis #23) near Upper Goshen in Kings County, New Brunswick.
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The painting ‘thistles at Malone Bridge’ is 24 inches wide by 20 inches high, done in acrylics, gallery edges.
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My painting ‘thistles at the Malone Bridge’ is part of Isaac’s Way Restaurant’s 31st Art Auction. The Auction closes January 28, 2018 – silent-auction-type bids are taken until then, or you can buy the painting anytime up to the close of the auction for its full price of $320. 50% of the proceeds from my sale are donated to ART lessons for kids-in-need. If you love covered bridges and would like some original art for your home, drop by and have a look at my work or call Isaac’s Way at 506-474-7222.
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
Bell Bridge
Over the past weekend, we were inundated by heavy rains and a sudden rise in temperature. The resulting meltwater and rainwater combined to cause flooding in much of the province. There has been lots of damage to homes and roads and other infrastructure.
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One of the casualties is the Bell Covered Bridge, also known as South Oromocto River #3. Although its ultimate fate is unknown, the damage will be assessed and perhaps we will lose yet another of the 59 covered bridges remaining in the province. I am not alone in hoping this bridge can be repaired or preserved in some way as a reminder of our history and the importance of these bridges to our communities and our heritage.
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Copyright Jane Tims 2018
nichepoetryandprose 