Maureen Bush's Blog, page 17

Earth Day: Writers on Nature

I’ve been thinking about writers, and Earth Day. I went looking for quotes, and found passages so quickly it stunned me. Is it so easy? Or are these the books I’m drawn to?

Henry David Thoreau, in Walden:

“In warm evenings I frequently sat in the boat playing the flute, and saw the perch, which I seem to have charmed, hovering around me, and the moon travelling over the ribbed bottom, which was strewed with the wrecks of the forest.”

Barbara Hurd, in Stirring the Mud, writing about skunk cabbage:

“– but I cannot rid myself of the image of its thick root, like a pale arm, plunged into the wet ground, the fist on the buried end tightening its clench around some iron bar of survival each time we tugged.”

Wallace Stegner in Wolf Willow, writing about the flatness of the prairie: “Desolate? Forbidding? There was never a country that in its good moments was more beautiful. Even in drouth or dust storms or blizzard it is the reverse of monotonous, once you have submitted to it with all the senses. You don’t get out of the wind, but learn to lean and squint against it. You don’t escape sky and sun, but wear them in your eyeballs and on your back. You become acutely aware of yourself. The world is very large, the sky even larger, and you are very small. But also the world is flat, empty, nearly abstract, and in its flatness you are a challenging upright thing, as sudden as an exclamation mark, as enigmatic as a question mark.”

Maureen

Wildlife in the City

After an early morning session in the garden, skunk-proofing around our deck (at least, we hope it’s now skunk-proof!), before the next storm arrives, we watched crows tugging soft bark off a honeysuckle vine, to cushion their nest.

We seem to have more wildlife than we used to, even though we’re more solidly in the inner city, as the city has grown up around us. Perhaps it’s because the trees are large, and we set out seeds in winter, and water in the summer.

I’m looking forward to the butterflies and bunnies and neighbour cats, and, I hope, an absence of skunks.

Maureen

Writer-In-Residence

Today was my last session as WIR at a local elementary school. I spent the morning with the grade 5s and 6s, using weird bug photos for an exercise in description.

I chose the strangest bugs I could find (and a few strange non-bug images for those phobic to insects), so the kids couldn’t rely on standard descriptions, but would have to look really carefully.

I worried the entire project could be a colossal failure, either because the kids found the bugs too creepy, or the description simply too difficult. Instead, they wrote wonderful pieces, turning their creatures into characters, and sometimes, stories.

The one drawback? I’m going to be a little creeped out this spring, as bugs start crawling in my garden, and I imagine them huge, or infesting my pillow, or camouflaging the world around them.

Maureen

 

Longing for Spring

A pause in the storm – I’m not sure if I want to venture out.

Maureen

Beware the Ice Princesses

I spent the morning with grade 4 kids, getting them totally wound up as we created stories together. We discovered one teacher, Mrs. L, was in fact Bob the Blob, in disguise. He’d come out of a pipe, burbling strange noises, and hidden the real Mrs. L in the closet. And, for anyone with any association with grade 4 classes, be warned: they’ve been infested by ice princesses intent on freezing and taking over the world. This is why it’s still snowy here. All their fault.

Later, the kids created monsters. I think I’ll have nightmares from some of their creations!

Maureen

More on Life In The Inner City

 My neighbour has a skunk living under her back entry.

My neighbour’s house is going to be torn down.

Ergo…

Sigh. Time for some skunk-proofing.

Maureen

Project Bookmark Canada

Imagine finding  an excerpt from your story on a marker at the location it takes place, or finding a favorite author’s story.

“Project Bookmark Canada marks the places where the real and imagined landscapes meet by placing text from imagined stories and poems in the exact, physical locations where literary scenes take place. We’re building a network of hundreds of Bookmarks around the country, so that residents and visitors can read their way across Canada.”

http://projectbookmarkcanada.ca/discover/

This is brilliant – and definitely goes on my bucket list as something to covet.

Maureen

 

First Flower

The garden is in that snow-rapidly-melting garden-emerging disheveled stage, when I’m desperate to get out and work, just to be in it, but I rather like the tousled-ness of it all. There’s a rawness to an early spring garden I hate to disturb with trimming and tidying and raking. And still, I do it, because it’s too cold to just sit outside. Perhaps I should light the chiminea and sit by the fire, instead.

Maureen

The first flower of spring

Writer-In-Residence

I’ve been the writer-in-residence for a Calgary elementary school, visiting once a week for six weeks.

First I met with all the kids, doing my usual “I’m a writer and here’s what I do” schtick. Since then I’ve been working with the grade 3s , 5s and 6s, making up stories together, creating monsters, and, most recently, making their monsters speak.

It’s been really interesting seeing the differences between the younger and older writers, and the range within each grade. Some kids leap right in, and write complex stories. Some of the younger ones simply stall, not able to get any words down. Talking it through often helps, or drawing the story as a cartoon, for the visual kids.

I love seeing what the kids come up with – they have amazing imaginations. And I’m particularly proud of the reluctant writers who find a voice. One boy struggled to get anything down at all. Yet he could tell me remarkable things about the planets. I wrote his first two sentences for him, and coached him through a couple more. Then he finally got rolling, and continued on describing Jupiter, his favorite planet, with 63 moons, and how Saturn’s ring is made of rocks. He was articulate and interesting, and surprised us all.

And that’s what makes the effort oh, so worth it.

Maureen

Spring Snowstorms?

There’s been a debate here in the deeply frozen north about when winter snowstorms become spring snowstorms. First, I think it’s important to understand that snow does not mean winter. In the mountains, snow can be found even in summer. In Calgary, we’ve had snow every month of the year. If snow defined the seasons, winter would be endless and unbearable.

I let my garden define the seasons. If there’s green, it’s spring. The first flower defines it more clearly, but any green brings hope. This year, my first green came in daffodil shoots emerging in an east-facing bed close to the house, in late February. They’ve been buried under snow over and over since then, but each time they emerge, they’re a little taller. Now I see buds forming, as we anticipate a lovely warm day. Of course, more snow is coming, but my daffodils will still be there. Because it’s spring.

Maureen