isobelmtl

Writing under a Montreal sky

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about

Isobel Cunningham has published short fiction and poetry. Her book, Northern Compass is available on Amazon. She was born in Wales but Montreal is her adopted home. She speaks French, Modern Greek ( it’s a fun story) and a little Spanish…oh, English too, of course. She welcomes comments on her blog and looks forward to chatting with you over cyber-space.

These boots are made for walking…

Only they’re not going to….

for a while anyway. Some of you know that I have been planning a stay of two weeks as hospitalera in Porto and then walking the end of the Portugese Camino. So, I splurged on Columbia( my favorite) waterproof shoes. Hmm, the best laid plans… last week I got a diagnosis which will mean staying home for a bit for testing and probably surgery. I will not indulge in what a dear friend of mine calls the “ organ recital”. No need to freak out! It’s very boring and routine but it’s better to get on with things and not be faced with some crisis in the wilds of Galicia.

Today was “ milder “

if I can use that word at this time of year. January was brutal and so when I came out of the Metro today it was a surprise to get the urge to walk home through the park. Someone had been cross-country skiing and some feathered darlings

we’re still hanging out on the pond

I’ve never seen it so iced over. Out of view is a wide and fast-moving source of water flowing into the pond. It never ices over completely but with many days of -20 degree temps lately, the ducklings have not had much paddling room.

As soon as they saw me

they all rushed toward me! Poor babies! I guess they were hoping for something to eat. I promise I’ll bring something for them tomorrow. I know, I know, not bread!

The days are a little longer and there has been a magnificent moon for the past two days. All is well and all is going to get even better – for me and for the ducks

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I Hate Squirrels

Would any normal creature

do this in the middle of the longest cold snap in memory? I have never liked these rats with attitude and their attack on the upholstered arm on one of my balcony chairs à couple of weeks ago had me shaking pepper all over the place. Normally I love animals… dogs, cats, fish, birds, men ( oops, sorry!) but anything rodent-like is not for me. Beavers and maybe muskrats make the cut but squirrels are the bane of my life.

Feeling a little crotchety, Isobel? Yes! On Friday as I gasped my way to the bus stop I vowed not to spend another January in this frozen hell. To add insult to injury, my daughter on Vancouver Island just sent me these pictures taken in her yard. Yes! Blooming flowers and shoots of daffodils and tulips!

Helbore
Same family also called Christmas rose?
A promise if spring
Gotta love it

Of course, rather than squirrels, she is plagued with deer but a high fence has kept them out recently. Ah well, the grass is always greener…..and squirrel – free!

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The North Star

I think! It certainly isn’t north of my home but it is the first star to appear. It certainly wasn’t anywhere to be seen tonight as the day was mostly like this

And now that it’s dark

it’s still snowing. Snow can be beautiful, white and silent it covers a lot of ugliness. It’s romanticized by people who never have to shovel it. It covers dirt and bare branches. It muffles the sound of traffic. It looks lovely from behind à wide window when you’re curled up with a soft blanket and a fascinating book.

But… at this stage in my life – I’m done! For the past two weeks I have not set foot outdoors without a hiking pole. I have walked hundreds of kilometers on hikes and Caminos and now I toddle along with spikes on the soles of my boots and a glorified cane, terrified of falling. I have a subscription to à gym. How ridiculous it would be to fall on an icy sidewalk and break à bone as I make my way to exercise class!

Enough! Over the past 24 hours, confined to my warm and comfortable apartment, I have drunk two pots of coffee and eaten an embarrassing number of tangerines while struggling with a short story that wants to become a novel.

I know how lucky I am. Sixty thousand households in and around Montreal had no electricity for many hours over the past weekend.

A woman in her sixties was found dead of hypothermia this afternoon. No electricity means no heat for many of us here.

Again, I know I’m lucky. Because I worked almost all of my adult life, I have a decent pension. My family responsibilities are not onerous and so, I can do something about my newly developed anathema to months of cold and snow. Soon enough this book will be dog-eared. My preoccupation will be avoiding not falls, but blisters.

Yes, no more snow

and I’m counting the days , not the months.

Dear reader, excuse the rant but remember me and call me to account next year. No more long snowy winters for me!

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Goodbye, until next time

Into the box you go!

There is only one king in my crèche. I know a playful dog ran away with Balthazar decades ago and we only found a chewed up remnant weeks after Christmas. The dog, Katie, suffered no ill effects. What happened to the other Magi … I cannot tell. This set was bought by my parents at least forty years ago and the little white sheep is certainly an interloper. She’s china and the rest is pure mid century plastic.

Lights from the tree and folksy decorations

The poor tree is out on the balcony, waiting for city pick-up day.

How quickly the season passed but there are other wonderful things to look forward to now.

God bless and may all come round again to a happy Christmas in 2026

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The day before Christmas Eve

Flowers from my daughter, Elizabeth
And the tree is up!

It’s snowing properly today and it almost certainly will be “ a White Christmas” I have a visitor staying with me for a few days. My dear niece, Katy, is here from Greece.

Here we are at warmer times

She was so kind when I was in Kefalonia, it was a pleasure to have her here in Montreal

Christmas Eve service and carol sing tomorrow night and then Christmas Day with Helen and her lovely family. Thankful for good health and to be living in my beloved country of Canada.

Merry Christmas all!

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She’s baaack!

Leaving the Island

It was a pretty torturous travel itinerary from Vancouver Island to Montreal on the 15/16 th. I know, I know … winds off the island made take off difficult. I was rewarded with some beautiful shots over the Strait of Georgia though.

After days of rain

A lovely sky. Getting out of Vancouver was no easy feat. And who knew the meal vouchers don’t include a drink which I certainly needed to while away the many hours before I finally got on a plane to my home town. I mean how much Duolingo can I do? However, finally sitting safe and sound in my home is a blessing. I miss the green of the Island though.

Till next time!

Now, get stuck into Christmas card writing ! Yes, I’m that old! Love sending and getting them.

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Feeling a little Christmassy on Vancouver Island

Found on the trail

next to the Strait of Georgia. Someone put up a few little signs for walkers to find

Here’s another one!

I’ve seen wild trees decorated along here in the past too but never quite so ambitious as this one

Of course nature, herself
Adds a touch of hope!

It’s so lovely to see little baby trees springing up from what looks like dead wood!

Here’s another one!

The biggest hopeful touch for me was a little blue parting what feels like endless cloud here on the island.

View of the mainland
Want a moss garden?

Gotta have damp, I guess!

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Some sights on the Island

A Vancouver Island Eagle

Yes he really was right across the Oyster River as I went for my noon walk. This picture is a bit fuzzy as I had to crop it. I took it just in time as he soon spread his wings and flew up the river away from the sea. You would never seen him here in the summer. Too many people about! The sea was absolutely calm and some seals were playing, slapping their fins and tails but they were too far away for pictures.

Hellebores

Also known as Christmas Rose although they have nothing to do with roses.

Holly without berries

I couldn’t find a single bush with berries.

A little fish showing me the way home
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On the West Coast

In Vancouver airport

I had to return to the island a bit unexpectedly…. Family business. Whenever I see this sculpture in the city airport I feel reassured! This trip always reminds me of how huge our country is. Flying over vast expanses of black with a few dots of light around a lake here and there only emphasizes the scale of our home. There was no hop on flight until the next morning so I had to sleep overnight close to the airport.

On the flight to the Island
View from my daughter’s front door
“Betty” our beloved Pacific Maple
On my walk
A mushroom
Oyster River so different in winter

This is winter, right?

A west Coast winter!

It is unbelievably quiet here! Lots of time for writing… ok, ok, blogs are writing too!

Lots of fallen leaves

But green life springing up too!

Enjoy your kind of winter, whatever it is.

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A Banditry of Chickadees

Yes, they finally came!

On Thursday I was out in Angrignon Park and I spotted a cardinal.

Just visible!

While I was trying to get a good shot ( and failing!) I was being dive bombed and harassed by chickadees! I decided the next day to bring bird seed. In the past these cheeky birds have eaten from my hand in the park. I figured they must be preparing for winter, stocking up!

However, yesterday I was disappointed that not a single bird sang, chirped or rustled a leaf, I didn’t have much hope today and after my first turn around the lake I was almost resigned to going home without seeing any of these masked cuties.

However, I decided to try one last spot off the trail. Well, it turns out these babies don’t just want you to shake the seed box, or even open it, or call them with a ridiculous imitation of their call. There was not a sign of a bird until I poured seeds into my hand and then … whoops there they were

This is what they want!

Turns out they like the sunflower seeds best although with their little beaks I was amazed they could swallow them down.

And then! A surprise!

A Nuthatch! He was bigger than the chickadees but more timid. They certainly liked the seeds from my hand but some of them visited the container too, standing on the rim and chasing each other off!

I stood there until my hand was pretty cold, now I know where and how, I’ll be back, I hope they will too, little bandits! And my favourite, too, the Nuthatch,

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It’s Over

This year’s carpet

Although we’re still above freezing here in Montreal high winds and rain on Halloween night meant that most of the trees are bare. Not all…

But even my “ green holdout”

of last week looks like she’s ready to join the crowd.

One thing that bare branches allow one to notice are the distinct messy leaf nests of squirrels and something else

Wasp nests!

I remember taking an empty one to school in a tin can for a botany/ biology class. I thought the nun would praise my enterprising spirit in bringing a real example of nature’s wonders. Unfortunately in the time it took to take it to school some sort of chemical reaction took place in the air tight can and upon opening it we were all treated to the most powerful and unpleasant stench.

“Miss Cunningham! Get rid of that thing!” The janitor had a good laugh I remember.

Here’s another one!

Pull out your gloves, people. There may be no wasps around but winter winds can sting too!

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A Halloween birthday

The props

There were plans for this birthday but nature had other ideas. It poured with rain all day and a high wind caused the electricity to cut out. My beloved grandchildren had arranged to come over with a birthday cake and to sleep over. With no lights, and no stove it might have been atmospheric but we all finally agreed to postpone the party.

They will come tomorrow and that will be lovely.

I could not resist this festive setting though. Every year on my birthday my daughter, Elizabeth sends me flowers. How welcome are these lovely blooms just as the year turns on this special day.

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Gold in the Gutter

 

 

 

image

Gold in the gutter
The hour, the golden hour has come
For you to flutter, for you to fall.
Your song becomes a stutter, a cry.
The others lie though they too were so proud against the sky.
Gold and high but no more can they fly the flag of beauty.
Gold in the gutter

Once green, lush
A sign of life, renewal
The hours, cruel hours rolled
Clocks have chimed, bells have tolled.
Now became your when.
How green changed hue. Now still gold on blue,
Still hanging on the branch
This day a chance, a little gasp, one grasp of an Autumn day
So soon gold in the gutter.

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From a few Days Ago

Still fall

and doggies eating patiently for their walker to get it together at the entrance to my local park. One big black fellow ( just out of sight) wanted so much to get acquainted but his business-like walker soon put a stop to that . “ He jumps up and I can’t be responsible for any injury.” She was right I suppose but doggie and I exchanged a mournful glance and off I went.

A breezy day

that brought down many leaves but the temperature was still mild. We’ve been enjoying a sort of enchanted fall this year with lovely colours and mild temperatures.

It won’t last
Soon to take cover

I awoke to a temperature of 4 degrees this morning. Even the geraniums must come in now.

Was it only a few months ago that I saw an elderly gentleman standing , half-dressed in this pond on an infernally hot and humid day?

Canadians have the reputation of being moderate and reasonable people. Perhaps we cultivate these qualities in the face of a climate that is anything but.

Ah, found them!
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Why are you still Green?

In the park

near my home, a mystery. While autumn is well underway with its special beauty

The clouds, the still lake,

One tree among all the others pretends it is summer

Others cling to last brilliant leaves

But one stalwart clings, instead, to the color of life. It looks like an ordinary maple but there is something extraordinary about it.

If anyone knows the secret to this mystery,

Drop a note

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It’s Over

It was stopping

but not quite over as I rashly decided to make a run for it. What really seems to be over is the magic/ spooky summer that just wouldn’t go away.

I set off to train on the toboggan hill today. It was humid with a mixed sky. After being spoiled for so many weeks I trusted the patch of blue over the ominous thundercloud. I bet on the wrong horse- patch of sky that is. No sooner had I done my measly four up and down the hill than it began to spit rain. I made for a nearby bus shelter where I spent one hour listening on my phone, transfixed by Dylan Thomas.

I love Walt Whitman for his excesses of language. I had forgotten about Thomas who is just as tripping, trailing and terrorizingly over the top. I had neglected to cancel an introductory offer on Amazon music and last night managed to persuade a very polite and accommodating employee to give me a few freebies before I pulled the plug. The BBC recordings of Thomas and Richard Burton reading lots of Thomas’ work was one I chose.

As the rain poured down I listened, entranced, to parts of Under Milk Wood that I had forgotten.

Rain teemed down, busses stopped and left, my clothes almost dried out. When I noticed that an hour had passed in the company of Thomas’ all too believable fantastic characters, I resolved to watch for a slack-off of the deluge.

As if by magic the rain tapered off to a few lazy drops….. only to tamp down again as soon as I got a block away from my bus shelter. I could hear old Dylan chuckling overhead. “I told you to take an umbrella” the chant of every Welshman from here to Llanfair…. echoed in my dripping eardrums.

The wind blew and I was chilly in my now soaking wet clothes. Another bus shelter loomed but the heavens relented and I was able to continue on home. A hot shower and a “ nice cup of tea” set me up for a cosy afternoon

The rain cleared off the nearby chestnut tree.

Good thing, I suppose. The other day I was explaining what “ conkers” are to my grandkids. It doesn’t translate well into French somehow.

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Long autumn walk in Montreal

Pick your enthusiasm!

Our home and native land …. Or autumn fantasy

After a chat with a hearing aid dealer in Verdun, one of my favorite “ down home” Montreal neighborhoods, I decided to walk home. Her verdict , “you can hear but you can’t understand” was rather discouraging and , putting it down perhaps to a translation issue, I decided to walk and brood my way home. It is rather a long way – 7 to 8 km but it was warm and I was treated to some beauty.

Along the calm river
These hydrangeas were showing their age

But since they are favorites of my daughter in B.C. I could not resist.

Seed pods bursting and fall asters still blooming
Coming over the canal

that separates Verdun from LaSalle there were Canada geese having a cool down. I wonder when the will fly off. It’s so warm (23 degrees yesterday) that they must be a bit confused like most of us.

Back in my stamping grounds

Google maps led me straight through Angrignon Park where some trees are into fall and some aren’t.

I suppose it was a pretty long walk so I was tired and went to bed early. The result being that I woke up even before the morning started rose.

I made an ernest effort to go back to bed later with the usual result of extremely vivid dreams. This time I didn’t mind because they were about corgis! I shall have to look that up in the dream book!

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Avian Flu

A Cormorant

In my neighborhood park some uniformed animal staff were armed with huge nets. They caught this cormorant who was holed up in the roots of my favourite willow tree. The “ chief “ was a chatty type who explained that the bird was exhausted from coughing and they were going to take him to a sanctuary in hopes of curing him.

These guys respond

To requests for help with wild birds or animals. I always think of cormorants as being sea birds but …. The expert told me they live close to all sorts of water.

He was resting under my willow tree

It was such a lovely day that I even went to the other park. – the one with the toboggan hill!

Why doesn’t it look steeper?

It certainly feels steeper as I toil up and down.

A little spark tells me the Camino Finisterre is in my future! Can’t stick to the flat all the time. We’ll see if I can persist. Come on ! Encourage me!

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Unexpected Things

When leaves are turning red

these surprised me by being pure white! When I walk in my neighborhood park I often take a shortcut through a leafy lane rather than sticking to the paved paths. This little tree is overshadowed by lots of green foliage so I guess it doesn’t get enough light. It’s a strange sight amid all the yellow, brown and red of the season.

A stand-out

In among the drab leaves this one who gets top marks for trying. But….he let go a little early.

A surprise on my street

I know it’s just someone’s discarded mirror. It gave me a beautiful perspective on my corner of town.

Keep noticing! Every day is full of surprises!

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Morning Star

At the end of summer

I started to wake very early.

I sat on an old chaise-lounge

next to the patio door.

At about five-thirty the big star

would start to climb above the nearby rooftops.

Nearby, and yet so far, so far away.

Brilliant and large it slowly climbed

up the dark sky while I checked my mail

or did my puzzles. The real puzzle was

why that star loved me so on early mornings of late summer,

I looked up often, tracking its course

as it glittered down on me, drawing me into

the soft day.

Below it an expanse of pearl or rose lightened up

as it became smaller, fainter and then left me

to the tender care of my day.

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Making up our minds about autumn

In the local park yesterday ( Angrignon)

I was glad I had taken a rather delicate pair of potted plants in last night as the temperature fell to 4 degrees. No frangipani can be happy in that zone! Some trees leap right into the blaze of red that we Canadians are so proud of.

Others are a little more discrete

I’ve been busy in the museum lately preparing for the opening of a big show – Kent Monkman. It is a bit daunting for an old white straight woman to guide such a show but I’m learning and am ready to do my best. Some of the training sessions have been very revealing and touching as we explore the story of Canada and its dark history with First Nations. I’m curious to see the reactions of visitors.

Back to the park!

I love the reeds on the edge of the pond too as their feathery tops sway in a chilly breeze.

Michaelmas Daisies

We used to call them as they came out around September 29. ( or November 8 in the Eastern churches). The tradition was one was supposed to cook a goose on that day but I guess we’ll wait until Thanksgiving for that.

The beautiful blossoms are berries now

on the little tree close to my home.

And from my messy balcony

Even the “ shademaster” trees that I snub because of their “ trademark” status, are turning a soft shy yellow. No doubt, it’s almost here. That lemon tree in the pot will have to come in next and …. let’s start planning a winter escape!

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Hiking up memory lane

The Gault Estate. Lac Hertel

Decades ago my Dad brought us here. This is the lake in the crater of a long- ago volcano on Mont St Hilaire. It lies beyond the Richelieu River to the South-East of Montreal. With a new job as supervisor of all the buildings and grounds of McGill University, this and many acres of surrounding mountain was part of my father’s responsibility. It made a great impression on me when he told me how the lake had been formed.

Spot the “ first sign” of autumn

I don’t own a car by choice so coming out here is not frequent excursion. I discovered the day-trip option of SEPAQ however and happily jolted along in an old bus with a group of other hiking enthusiasts. Besides offering chalets for family stays, the NANA division (Navet a la Nature sic) offers day transport and access to nature in a way that uses communal transport. Quite a bargain too!

Setting off!

My Dad was beside me in spirit as I hiked up the paths to a lookout on a spot called Sugar Loaf

The Richelieu River far below
Up we go!

The trail was pretty rocky but encouraged by a family of youngsters I persevered and sat to have a picnic lunch.

Ah, the coming down!

Some spots were pretty worn from a full summer of visitors and I was glad of my hiking pole. I had carelessly left one in a Metro car a few weeks earlier and never replaced it. Maybe that was why a gentle skid to a surprise sitting position livened things up a bit. No harm done.

Some recognition of old benefactors

At the pleasant visitor centre, I enjoyed a coffee with another hiker. It was a lovely peaceful day that brought back fond memories and made new ones!

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Oh yeah?

“Basics” being the operative word!

I’ve always loved writing my blog but now, with a book publishing deal signed ( yes, you read right) I figured it was time to learn how to manipulate my own website. A very patient young man at a city library led three people “of a certain age” through some of the mysteries of this wonderful form of communication.

It was like flying a plane without a parachute

And … for the first time. How to steer, raise the wheels, cruise, navigate, and lower the wheels without crashing the whole contraption!

Halls throat sweets are my go-to stress relief for some reason. I consumed almost a whole package during the afternoon’s final class.

Anyway old friends will notice I managed to include a page for published works . So go have a peek in there. Makes a change from my usual drooling over nature.

Speaking of….it really feels like fall now. Lovely and cool but the afternoons a little shorter and a few brilliant leaves appear. Enjoy it folks. We know what’s coming.

Busy weekend ahead – hiking tomorrow and my bro’s birthday party on Sunday. Stay posted for good news.

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A day out on the Islands

On Hornby Island

All around Vancouver Island are smaller islands. I. Never think about them much when I am at home in Montreal . They are beautiful and a joy to visit. You get there by various ferries and navigating the schedules and connections can be tricky.

Enormous giants

live out here and it is wonderful to drive on narrow roads that lead to provincial parks where only walking is allowed. A short hike through ferns and forest leads to a high bluff where we can enjoy views of the sea

A heron waiting patiently
Clear waters far from commercial shipping

I will miss this place.

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Fall is Coming

The wheat is cut
Fish are going upstream to spawn
Rowan berries are out
Rise hips are ready
Wild pears on the shore!
Blackberries are ripening

And that’s how you know fall is coming. Sure it was hot on my long walk today on the driftwood beach. But the signs are there. It’s light a little later in the morning. The Sturgeon moon has come and gone. Fall is coming.

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