By: pattihenderson

Jun 05 2011

Category: Weekend Adventures


Focal Length:55mm
Shutter:1/0 sec
Camera:Canon EOS 7D

This morning I woke up to the mournful call of seagulls, the gentle lapping of waves on the Lake Ontario shore, welcome sunlight streaming through my apartment, and the faint scent of my neighbour’s lilacs drifting upwards on the warm spring breeze. It was a sunny Sunday morning and this typically spells adventure! I took the roof off my Jeep, threw my camera in my pack and headed west and north of the city in search of, well…I really did not know right away to be honest. But it didn’t take long. Not far out of lovely Belfountain I started seeing what my heart was apparently searching for…wide open spaces, dotted with family farms redolent of lilacs in full bloom. I took the shot above on the 4th Line near Hockley Valley on the edge of a stunning horse farm.

You see, at this time of year I always find myself longing for the open road, eternally searching to relieve a dull ache in my chest, trying I guess, to fill that small hole that still misses my first home on our farm near Forest.  This tiny hole expands and contracts depending upon the season or occasion. It is especially large at Christmas and again in the spring when  fresh country air is tinged with hope.  It certainly expanded this morning with the scent of lilacs in my apartment and I was immediately transported back to our old farmhouse that was lovingly surrounded with fragrant, sweet-smelling lilac bushes. Every year, for two short weeks in early June, all you had to do was breathe in and a small piece of heaven would take up residence in your soul. It is indeed difficult to describe those short weeks of peace that landed at the Henderson farm each spring. It always signified the end of a long winter, and the beginning of a short but glorious summer when I was free to roam our 150 acres, homework and chores left behind in my dust. Nothing but adventure ahead.

I am certainly grateful for the 19 years I spent on the farm, and especially grateful for the idyllic summer seasons that surrounded us with warmth and much hope for the future.

Welcome summer. You make anything seem possible!


2 comments on “Transported”

  1. Patti, Very touching! I also remember that same farm house for the holly hocks with which we made pretend doll skirts. Also in my memory were the “holidays” with our grandparents AND your Dad in the house with the phonograph machine, the mice in (probably under) the upstairs floors that kept me in bed, not daring to touch the floor, AND your Dad’s room with the model car on his dresser.
    By the way…. a very happy birthday to your Dad today!

  2. Thanks Marian – it was a good house with lots of love and laughter. I guess you always remember your first home. And can you believe Dad is 82?

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