20 January 2008
De-Stressing and distressing
The irritations and challenges of renovating a blog are absolutely nothing compared to things that really matter. After fighting with a recalcitrant website until the wee hours, I went to bed about 5 am...and was woken up at 930 am by commotion down in the kitchen.
The second most terrifying words you could hear: "Call 911. Our neighbour's house is on fire!"
At first we had a blind panic because we thought he was still in there. The passerby who alerted us and my husband headed out the door after calling for the fire department, only to meet our neighbour coming in the yard. Thankfully, he is fine. Thankfully, he has insurance. But it has been a very distressing day.
I used to be a firefighter with the local volunteer department, as I've written before. I did my share of puttin' water on fires, and medical emergencies, and the like. Always, I would go into this calm space and do what needed doing. Afterwards, as the adrenalin settled, I'd de-stress in any number of ways. And I still do.
Sometimes, when I'm upset over something, or dealing with a cranky deadline and need to relax a bit, I 'go away in my head' to the sea. Yes, I live right beside the mighty Bay of Fundy, where I can always see the shoreline. Sometimes I need to think about deeper, wider water...like the Labrador Sea, and standing on the top of the hill looking down at the community of Battle Harbour, Labrador. This was one of those perfect late-summer afternoons, miles from anywhere, with only peace and nature to occupy our thoughts.
I have a deep and abiding love for the ocean, as opposed to lakes and rivers; they're fine, but they're not the ocean. Perhaps in another life, I was a sailor--more likely a pirate, though not a-la-Johnny Depp. I love looking at the land from the water; here is the mighty promontory of Cape Split, the end of the North Mountain here in Scotts Bay, at slack water, as seen from the deck of CCGS Matthew, the hydrographic research ship I was on this spring.
This is what Cape Split looks like from our community, and from the lobster boats and other smaller vessels that go out around it. The mighty waters of the Bay of Fundy charge up here twice daily, spilling into the curve of Scott's Bay and then bellowing out around the end of the Split in an 8 knot riptide. Not a place for faulty motors or faint hearts, except when it's quiescent at half-tide, like it is here. I have to find one of my photos of the 'dancing waters' that happen when the rip is running.
Sunrises and sunsets also manage to settle a turbulent soul. This is sunrise over the Annapolis Valley a couple of weeks ago, from the LookOff viewing park a few miles up the road from here. Tonight's sunset, down over the Bay about an hour ago, painted very much the same colours, on a different landscape.
And what does all this have to do with gardening? Easy: the other way I de-stress, of course, is to head to the garden, to re-ground myself by working in the soil and surrounding myself with nature. Well, that just wasn't on for today, of course, especially since we're back in the fro-zone, with the mercury dropping faster than the Harpernista government's popularity ratings. So instead, I'm gardening in my mind--remembering sunnier days, quieter days, and knowing that things will work out.
My blog renovations are nearly complete, but I still have to rebuild the cat-photo-gallery, and also finish adding my links. If I don't have your blog or other website back up yet, I'm working at it...but finding Blogger boggier today than usual. So I hope to get things tidied up in the next day or two. This sort of busy-work is great for days like today when, despite de-stressing, my concentration is shot. I guess I'm just giving thanks for the good of the day.