Two lanes cut into one, just before the busiest intersection in town. They are doing roadwork, and it seems to be taking forever.
As much as possible, I avoid the area. It’s preferable to drive an extra ten minutes around than to sit and crawl along with the backed-up traffic.
But the part that made my blood boil, that no amount of yoga or breath training could calm away, was watching while drivers raced past in the right lane and nosed their way in. I sat in my self-righteousness, seething at their ignorance, their arrogance. Getting angrier by the minute as they jumped ahead of the line.
Then I found out I was wrong.
We were supposed to use both lanes, supposed to follow along and then take turns merging into one lane. But I, like most of the drivers in this place, figured I should get into the left lane as early as possible to ensure my spot.
At first, I was indignant. How else could it be navigated, how else could the traffic actually move along?
But then I sat with it, with my wrongness. And something surprising happened: Instead of holding onto the anger, I let it go.
I still avoid the area when I can. I still get into the left lane as early as possible (after all, it’s what most drivers here are doing), but now, instead of riding the bumper ahead of me, closing the gap for anyone seemingly cutting the line, I let them in.
And I let go.
I hope you find some ease in life’s traffic jams, some right in the wrongs. I hope you let go.
We’ve recently returned from a fun but busy trip to Orlando. We managed five parks in six days, and hit almost every ride we had on our to-do list. It was both exhilarating and exhausting.
I had brought my camera with me, hoping to take lots of pictures. I had visions of capturing endless details at the parks, palm trees and tropical plants. In reality, I only took it to two parks, and it was a challenge to capture decent shots in the crowds and the harsh sunlight.
On our first evening, however, I did manage these shots around the pool at our rental house. The late golden light reflected in the water made for some creative captures.
It’s been some time since I’ve posted. I seem to have gotten out of the habit of updating my blog sometime around the craziness before Christmas.
Since I took a few pictures while I was in NB over the holidays, I thought I’d go back a bit and share some of them with you. These were taken in my parents’ backyard; it snowed nearly every day I was there.
How did I not know that lakes could have shellfish?
Living in the Maritimes for my entire life until this point (save a spell in Japan a number of years ago), I honestly thought shellfish only came from the sea. Sitting on the beach at Sandbanks National Park this summer, though, I discovered broken pieces of shells amid the sand.
And here, on a rocky shoreline, were these shiny pink clam shells.
It is hard to believe that something so pretty can be so poisonous.
Along many roads in Ontario, wild parsnip grows abundantly. We’ve warned the children about it, reminded ourselves to keep an eye out when we walk among plants. Now, these golden weeds are drying out for fall. Their starburst-like shape makes for pretty pictures, and I can’t resist photographing them (although you can be sure I keep my distance!).
I will always miss the coastlines of New Brunswick, but there is plenty of inspiration in Ontario.
In fact, being in a new place is providing for many photo opportunities. Especially when you keep your eyes open.
There are several spots to pull off Bath Road outside Kingston to enjoy the view of the lake. Not only the lake drew my eye, though. Even the curved guardrail along the road can make for a great photo.