Folk Wisdom... Folk Arts... and words that want to be shared

By Penny Reed

The winds of change descended upon me, and I found myself staying with my parents as I helped my mother recover from major surgery.

It was clear that my ageing parents needed more assistance than previously thought. What was intended to be a several-day visit grew into a much longer...

By Penny Reed

The sun was bright and warm, and the air was crisp and fresh. The sweet scent of the waking woods was faint on each breath stoking a tiny ember deep in my belly.

The frozen earth firm beneath each step. I marvelled at the beautiful icy earth crystalline eruptions that were present...

By Penny Reed

The trails resembled the rough ice on a frozen pond. Not good enough to skate on but safe to walk on. I was feeling very grateful for my ice cleats as I heard them confidently picking themselves into the frozen slippery surface beneath me. The seasonally warm temperatures had...

By Penny Reed

A blanket of fresh snow called me to the woods. I eagerly bundled up and dashed out the door - excited to discover animal tracks, magical snow kingdoms, and hidden mysteries. When I arrived at one of my favourite walking trails, it was apparent that everyone in my neighbourhood had...

By Penny Reed

The forest has been re-born, transformed into a magical kingdom of fluffy snow clouds and twinkling ice beads.

As I walked down a familiar known path an under current of being somewhere completely new and foreign was forming. The open, stark forest of November had given way to an...

By Penny Reed

Psithurism (sith-err-iz-um) a whispering noise like wind in the trees.

A sound made by the rustling of leaves that almost sounds like music.

I often notice grief in myself this time of year as the verdant greens of summer give way into the ruddy earth tones of decay. The spaces...