cat wisdom...

Sam the Cat found me nearly fifteen years ago in a PetSmart store. I was there to buy birdseed. He was all alone in the cat enclosure. A yearling boycat with strange markings and a scarred ear, he was the only moggy still homeless after a week-long Humane Society adoption fest.

Our eyes met.

I smiled.

He meowed.

I crouched to say hello.

Yowling, he launched himself into my arms, his message crystal clear: "Get me out of here!"

I've been doing Sam's bidding ever since, and he has repaid me by sharing nuggets of catly wisdom. Here are just a few of the many lessons I've learned.

1. Be curious.

2. Curiouser and curiouser.

3. Eat healthy.

4. Don't over-indulge. (Everything is good in moderation.)

5. Comfortable shoes are best.

6. Friends appreciate a helping hand. (They may not know it, but they do.)

7. Be persistent.  (Persistence often pays off with a treat.)

8. Get plenty of sleep.

9. Remember to wash your behind your ears.

10. Go outside!

11. Stay warm.

12. We all need a little personal time. Savour it.

13. Ponder the great mysteries of life.

14. Practice patience. It's not easy being green, but count to ten before you freak out over the stupid Kermit hat. (Then go ahead and freak out. People remember and will never try such a silly thing again.)

15. Stretch often.

16. Read widely.

17. Appreciate your friends. (Hi, Jay!)

18. Play!

19. Think outside the box. Because, of course, the cat is in the box, so there's no room for you there. (This applies to all boxes.) (Also, always recycle.)

20. Enjoy life. Every little sunbeam is a gift.

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stillpoint is the blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington

  

photos of 2015

Since retiring from The Day Job in May of 2015, I've tried to make a habit of carrying my camera wherever I go. As you might imagine, this has resulted in an ever-expanding photo library and plenty of story inspiration. Over the holidays, I took some time to look through all those images of people, places and beautiful things, and chose a few favourites to share. (Click to enlarge.)

Apple blossoms at Colonel Samuel Smith Park on Lake Ontario in Toronto. I love the way the focus "pops" on this one. And the colours of spring!

This male Mallard duck, kept a close eye on me as he paddled. I realized later that his mate was sleeping nearby, perfectly camouflaged by beach pebbles. I can't help but smile when I see those little orange feet and the reflected sparkle of sun-warmed water on his breast.  

Old man turtle found a sunny spot to lounge by the pond in the conservatory at Centennial Park in Toronto. Just look at that smug expression. Turtles play an important part in Rock Solid, so I'm a real sucker for a guy in a handsome shell.

This gorgeous blue heron was fishing in the Grand River in Cambridge, Ontario while I lunched with a friend at a riverside restaurant. He did eventually catch a little fish and gobble it down. Not far away, this fisher woman kept him company. She didn't seem to be having much luck, though. 

No filters on this photo - that's exactly how the river looked. Fast water and lots of reflection. I love the effect!

Lake Ontario at the Village of Wellington in Prince Edward County. A storm blew through the night before and remnant winds and waves made walking a bit wild. My favourite beach weather!

Purple mystery flowers. That's not botanical, it really is a mystery. If anyone can identify this lovely plant, please let me know in the comments. Not native to my part of the world, this was taken in the tropical house at Toronto's Centennial Park Conservatory. UPDATE, January 8, 2016: Thanks to blog visitor Bec and Facebook commenter Ian who identified this lovely plant as Duranta Sapphire Showers.

I snapped several photos of this handsome Ring-billed Gull at Long Branch Park in Toronto. I like the movement in this shot and call it "on patrol". He seems to be marching to his own drummer.

No collection of favourites would be complete without a portrait of himself, Sam the Cat. Here, he's intently focussed on something only he can see. Fierce concentration. (Spooky.)

Lake Ontario on a sunny winter day. I marvel at how swans, ducks and other water fowl seem so unruffled by cold. This photo captured a drop of water just as it fell from the swan's beak. Elegant profile.

Back to Centennial Park Conservatory for this last image from 2015. The Christmas flower show featured spectacular displays of poinsettias but my eye was drawn to this glorious candy cane amaryllis.

My photo goals for 2016 are (1) to seek the unusual and (2) to cultivate patience. The patience part will, I hope, result in a few more successful bird photos. Thus far, I've been mostly foiled by their tendency to watch me point and focus, then flit away (laughing) just as I click the shutter. Maybe I'll have more luck if I pick my spot and settle in quietly to wait and watch. Well... worth a try.

Wishing you a 2016 full of beautiful things.

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stillpoint is the blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington

  

flower power...

Turn the clock back nine months to February 27th, 2015. Here in Toronto, it was beginning to feel as if winter would never end. Temperatures hovered around minus 25 Celsius, snow and slush lined the roads, sidewalks were slick with ice. At home, Samcat had settled into hibernation mode atop his favourite radiator, and I was battling a gloom-inducing case of SAD.

That last Friday of February dawned clear and (no surprise) bitingly cold. But the sky was a crisp, cloudless blue and the sun shone brightly for the first time in more than a week. Being a red-blooded Canadian woman, I seized the opportunity, bundled up in parka and boots, and went shopping. Shoes? Books? No. I hit the local garden centre. When it comes to fighting the February blahs, there's nothing like a touch of the tropics and, as my mother always said, if you can't go south, go for fresh flowers and hothouse humidity.

I browsed for a while, not really intending to buy, until I encountered the orchid display – a glorious riot of purple, white, and yellow blooms – with (bonus!) everything on sale. The choice was easy: a sunny yellow Moth Orchid (Phalaenopsis), sporting a bright pink centre that reminded me of a funny, smiling face. I hurried the little Phal home, double-wrapped in a paper cone as protection from the cold. With luck, it would last through March, maybe even into April, a cheerful presence on my dining room table. 

In fact, the hardy little orchid held its blooms until the end of May. After so many months of pleasure, I couldn't bring myself to dispose of it, so when the last bloom dropped, I found a place for the pot on a table out on the balcony and… well, pretty much forgot about it.

Once upon a time, I had a kitchen with two enormous, west-facing windows, each with the kind of broad sill perfect for coaxing all sorts of plants to bloom, or bloom again. Those sunny window sills are the one thing I really miss in my condo. There's simply no good spot for growing a houseplant that wants a lot of light. So, if I can't give it away, a plant past its bloom will eventually wind up sad and spindly in the green bin. (Fact: Nobody wants an orchid past its bloom.) But I'm SO glad I didn't hurry to bin this one. Just look at what greeted me on August 1st!

Three weeks later, by August 19th, my little Phal pal had produced a total of seven lovely flowers on a sturdy new branch off the original spike. I'm equally glad I didn't hurry to trim that spike.

Super Phal is back indoors now, and still going strong. This next photo was taken less than a week ago on November 19th. I won't be a bit surprised if some of the blooms last through Christmas – but no matter when the final flower drops, this little beauty isn't going anywhere. Not even if I have to build a special shelf to hold it. 

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stillpoint is the blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington 

  

on joyfulness...

For the last few years I've started each day with a written Metta meditation. There are times when it's a struggle, when the day's expectations loom large or the morning is dark, snowy, and cold. But my notebook draws me in. Each fresh page with its twenty-three neat ruled lines gives me focus. And I begin…

May I be healthy and strong.
May I be safe and protected.
May I be peaceful…

I write on, filling one page of my notebook each day in a seven day cycle. On day two I write for my home and my family, on day three for my neighbourhood, then my city, country, planet Earth, and finally the entire Universe and all planes of existence.

In the early days of my practice, there were often a few free lines left at the bottom of the page but now my words almost always spill into the margins. I like this new exuberance, this breaking free. And I've discovered something about oft-repeated written words. For me, they begin to look and feel like their meanings. I savour each word as it flows from my pen. And the best word of all? Joyful. The rush of lightness in its loops and curls gives me an almost physical jolt of pleasure. I sometimes find myself anticipating joyful when I should be concentrating on another sentence. This concerns me a bit. In meditation, we're supposed to let go, cease grasping, release worldly thoughts, and simply be. And yet, what better way to start each day than with an abiding sense of wonder and joy?

When I thought about how to express this feeling, I began looking through my photo library and came up with a few images that, for me, perfectly define joyfulness.

Peace and Joy
(Quiet and still, beauty in nature.)

Reflected Joy
(Sunlight sparkles on water, reflects on feathers
and, oh, those adorable orange feet!)

Boundless Joy
(My grandchildren at play.)

Thank you for reading and may you find your perfect joy.

walking between the pages

On my travels this fall, I wandered into the small Ontario town of St. Marys. Even though I was positive I'd never visited before, the feeling of homecoming as I drove down the main street was strong enough to raise goosebumps. 

Crossing the Thames River bridge, into St. Marys, Ontario

I stopped to explore "The Stonetown" - so called because of its many lovely old buildings made of limestone from a local quarry - and suddenly I knew. This was the real-world version of Riverdale, the small quarry town Anne Norman and I had created for our novel, Rock Solid. And there came the goosebumps again. It was like walking into the pages of our book.





"Main Street, Riverdale" - Rock Solid







"She craned her neck to see around the horribly overgrown hedge of Chinese elm
that hid his house from the street. Good. No sign of the shiny black car." - Rock Solid
 





"Wandering leisurely through Street's backyard and along the riverbank, Rachel was charmed by the peaceful setting. Vivid images of its eventual transformation crowded her mind as she carefully measured distances and scribbled notes on important features and interesting plants. This would someday be a very special place, she thought, anxious to begin her sketches and see the project under way." - Rock Solid
 





"Riverdale Place" - Rock Solid
 





Town Hall in The Stonetown, St. Marys
 



My unexpected ramble through St. Marys is a pleasure to remember - it's a town I'll forever imagine as the face of Riverdale. For more information about the real-life Stonetown, visit their web site at townofstmarys.com.

Rock Solid by Cheryl Cooke Harrington and Anne Norman is available from Montlake Romance in hardcover, paperback, and for your Kindle.