isobelmtl

Writing under a Montreal sky

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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.

Some of us hang on

On my street

And some of us let go

We have enjoyed a dream-like fall. Spectacular colors, warm temperatures, still days that, untroubled by wind or even breezes, seemed enchanted. I think many of us revelled in this season with long walks on the mountain or in the large local parks that dot the city.

Those who let go

There are a couple of large ponds in Angrignon Park, close to my home. A few days ago, things changed. Gusts of wind, clouds racing across the beautiful sky and finally, drifts of leaves falling., ushered in a new mood. As I walked over a little bridge I noticed these leaves that had fallen into the pond and sunk below the surface. It made me think of what was going on down there, how the leaves would decay, eventually turn into the mud at the bottom.

Some geese flew overhead in a low ragged formation, preparing for the “ long trip” of migration. The next day I saw a turkey crossing quite a busy street and bustling into the crimson sumac bushes.

There is a Buddhist saying that I love” Let go or be dragged” the truth is that everything eventually lets go… even the leaves on the other side of the street. That’s how we get to the next level of beauty, of life.

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