Posts Tagged ‘Nova Scotia’
time on the shore
On this Father’s Day, I remember times spent with my dad.
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When I was a kid, he would take us to the shore near Port Maitland, Nova Scotia, to look for chunks of iron pyrite (fool’s gold) in the rocks.
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time on the shore
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1.
spit of sand
grains in an hourglass
poured through gaps
in a cobble sea
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2.
waves advance
try to tangle me
wash me, turn me
like a sea-smooth stone
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but I know about tides
I move myself inland
each hour
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3.
he watched whales blow here
saw sea horses dance
filled his pockets with sea glass
pitied the sandpiper
sprinkling tracks the waves erase
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I hear the hiss of air
the echoing wail
small stallions prance on my toes
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I close my eyes
forget to move
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4.
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he takes us prospecting
we wedge into crevasses
keen for pyrite gold
cube within cube
embedded in stone
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we always forget the hammer
we chip and scratch with fingernails
reach across rock
dare the waves
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a sanderling cries
quit quit!
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6.
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shorebirds
befriend me
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a dowitcher sews a seam with her bill
bastes salt water to shore
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the sanderling shoos back the tide
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terns
plunge into the ocean
and complain they are wet
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Published as: ‘Time on the Shore’, Canadian Stories 16 (89), February/March 2013
Part of manuscript ‘mnemonic‘ winner of the Alfred G. Bailey Prize, Writers’ Federation of New Brunswick 2016 Writing Competition
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Copyright Jane Tims 2017
dancing around the daisy pole
Perhaps strange to talk about a Maypole in July but Maypoles have been used for summer celebrations throughout the years. In the old stereoscope photo below, published by a company in Meadville Pennsylvania and St. Louis Missouri, the Maypole is referred to as a Daisy Pole.
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A rather blurry scan of a stereoscopic photo, blurry because it is curved for the viewer. The title of the photo is ‘A June Carnival – Dancing Round the Daisy Pole’ 1900
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When my Aunt Jane was young, attending a small school in Nova Scotia, field days were held in June. In her book, she recalls participating in a field day:
… I was in grade 1 … we had a “field day”. My dress was made of blue and white crepe paper and, holding on to the end of a white paper streamer, I danced around a May pole. I remember my great embarrassment as a gust of wind took the streamer out of my hand and sent it high in the air to flutter in the breeze …
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The decorative Maypole we made years ago to celebrate May 1 every year. Through the years, when I needed ribbon, I occasionally snipped a length from the pole, so there are a few short ribbons!
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sketch for ‘dancing around the daisy pole’ … in some ways more lively than the final drawing
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Copyright Jane Tims 2016
early schools – the exotic and the common
In my Aunt’s book about early schooling in Nova Scotia, she tells an amusing story about field days at school:
… I recall another field day when Dr. DeWolfe, Miss Harris, and Miss Baker came with shrubs to our school. The shrubs were ten cents each. My mother had always longed for a weigela and a snowball and we were delighted that at last she could have her wish, for both these varieties were among Dr. DeWolf’s collection. They were duly planted at my home on the bank of the French River. One turned out to be a high bush cranberry and the other a spiraea, but today we still refer to them as the “snowball” and “weigela” and, I may mention, they have many an offspring throughout our province.
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I must have seen the high bush cranberry and spiraea many times at my mother’s old home, but I don’t remember them in particular. I do remember the gardens, lush with rose bushes, tiger lilies, and grape vines.
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Copyright 2016 Jane Tims
between the tides – sea glass
Walking on the beach at low tide creates a two-way competition for the eyes.
First there is the pull of the sea – the vistas of distant shores, islands, boats and buoys to contemplate, and the crash and retreat of the ocean waves…
Second is the compulsion to watch the beach as you walk, searching for shells and patterned rocks…
or the gem of beachcombers, sea glass…
When the tide comes in, we collectors come home from the sea, our pockets full of treasures we have found.
sea glass
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tide turns
sea withdraws
we walk on the ocean floor
heads down
eyes conditioned to color
of sea glass translucence
of fog softened edges muffled
greens and bottle blues
rare ambers and reds
tide turns
ocean swells
glass and stone together
etched by sea
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© Jane Tims 2011