Mother Nature

There once was a mighty pine tree that grew in a small backyard woods. The woods only spanned across the backyards of about 10 tiny houses, but this tree stood out because it was the only of its kind. The other trees had leaves that changed colors with the seasons, and that split and toppled over during Scotian storms, but this pine tree remained the same. It stayed sturdy and green all year round. The tree also grew directly in the middle of the woods, which just happened to be in my backyard. 

As a 90s child I spent most of my time outside playing with the neighborhood children. Since technology wasn’t as advance as it is today we were forced to use our imaginations to find creative ways to have fun. One of those ways was personifying this pine tree and naming her Mother Nature. We acted as if she was a living spirit contained in the form of a tree. Although Mother Nature has a very different meaning for most people, we were strong believers that the energy we felt from the tree was real.

Mother Nature was a large tree. It was tall enough to climb and overlook the woods, and provided enough room to sit underneath. She provided shade on the hot days,  and shelter from the rain. Her soils were rich, and perhaps by coincidence there were several flat rocks underneath her that we used as chairs. As kids we would set times to meet and would gather around Mother Nature. There were even days I would come home and my friends would already be surrounding her without me. We were grateful to her and would show appreciation to our environment and all of its creatures. By believing in this energy we became aware of our surroundings and were cautious not to upset the balance of nature. In many ways this tree was our higher being, almost God like. We would pray to her for all things good to happen in a natural way. For example, when one of the kids mother was diagnosed with breast cancer we asked Mother Nature to help heal her. I am thankful to say that even in 2015 that mother is still alive and doing well. The energy was so powerful that we felt spiritually connected to do better things.

We kept the woods cleaned from garbage and litter. We raked paths throughout the woods and made mud pies to bring Mother Nature as gifts.  We fed all animals from the birds to the squirrels on Mother Nature's behalf, and didn’t pick flowers because we feared it would hurt her. As ridiculous as this all sounds I am thankful for this imaginative experience. It instilled positive behavior and taught me to respect our planet. I became very caring towards nature, its plants and its animals. It made me an activist growing up and for a long time Earth Day was my favorite day of the year. I joined the recycle club at school and was a vegetarian for several years. I felt it was my duty to do everything within my power to help and sustain a healthy environment.

It also showed me the power of imagination, belief and peer influence. What started off as a fun game slowly became an alternative form of reality.  As I grew older it helped me understand things like religion, peer pressure and energy. I believe that these powerful mindsets have effects that go beyond just the human mind. The energy I felt from that tree was something unexplainable. Whether it was a coincidence or destiny, it was an experience that helped shaped me at a young age. I am grateful to have a loving perspective of this planet, and all of its wonderful elements.

The First Time

It was a hot August day in Bedford, Nova Scotia. I was building a fort in my much cooler basement when the doorbell rang. I leapt from my fort and ran to my front door. There stood my best friends Brooke, and Renee, who also happened to be my neighbors. They were on the way to the park with their babysitter and asked me to join. Excitedly I went downstairs to grab my jump rope, which had been used in the construction my fort. The fort was made of a blanket, my jump rope and an old chair.

Unfortunately there was a staple sticking out of the chair where the fabric was supposed to be secured in place. I wasn’t paying attention and my lanky leg brushed against the staple hard. It sliced through my knee like a knife through a banana and a river of blood began to flood my sock. I screamed so loud in agonizing pain my father rushed to see what was wrong and picked me up like a distressed damsel. He took me to the bathroom to assess the damage and to put pressure on my wound.

I sat on the counter with a washcloth over my knee, looking down at my once beautiful white lace socks that now were almost brown, darkened by my blood.  The tears ran down my face faster than the blood down my leg but it no longer hurt, i was crying in fear. I could see the bone in my knee just barely sticking out like a sandbar in the middle of the ocean. My father told me I needed stitches, so he grabbed my mother and off to the emergency room we went.

It was a long wait, and was the first time I remember going to the hospital. After about two hours I got very bored like a typical restless five year old. So, my father decided he would go home to get my coloring books and crayons. Upon his return I went to meet him at the emergency doors where I also saw my first arrest. There was a man running across the parking lot being chased by two police officers. He was a larger fellow and was unable to fit through the doors quick enough. I was laughing because my father was signing the cops theme song “Bad boys, bad boys, what’cha gonna do when they come for you?” (Bad Boys, Inner Circle)

After about six more hours of waiting and coloring, I was finally able to see a doctor. He gave me 13 stitches in my right knee and I was good to go. Before I left I said to my mother, “I should have brought my blue pants and he could have stitched them too”. I was referring to the pants my cat had shredded with her claws. My mother snickered and we left.

The following week I don’t remember much about, however I do remember starting grade primary. I was not able to bend my knee so went to school a few days early to explain my situation to my teacher. I walked funny with my stiff leg, unable to bend in fear of ripping my stitches but none of the kids seemed to notice. The only time I got asked what was wrong was when we had to sit on the floor campfire style for story time. I either had to sit at the back with my legs straight out, or in a chair with my leg elevated.

Either way, it was not how I would have liked to have started of my educational journey, but at least I’ll never forget it.

Lets Take a Walk

Come! Lets take a walk to the lake I live on.

First, let’s look both ways before crossing the street from my house. On the other side there is a small woods. We have to walk down the trail to get to the lake. Be careful though this isn’t the easiest path. You will have to grab trees for security as the downhill path is very steep. At least it’s not very long, only about two minutes, and it has been cleared making it easier to walk in flip-flops. Just watch out for sticks, rocks and bushes that can cut and bruise bare skin. Don’t run too quickly because when you come out of the path you will be on a set of train tracks. These old, rusty tracks will lead you right to the swimming spot. Just turn right and walk for about thirty seconds, you will see the “beach” area on your left hand side.

There is a little distance from the tracks and the beach that is filled with bushes, flowers and grass. Avoid the grass as insects such as mosquitos love to hang out in there. Stick to the sand and you’ll be fine.

It’s a tiny beach area is only about ten feet long, and about two feet is rock. I put my towel and water bottle down on the rock so they don’t get covered in sand. There is a small wharf that has washed to shore and floats in the shallowest of waters. That’s usually where my dog hangs out because she can’t swim. She wades out in the water only to her chest but it cools her down on these hot August days.

It must be at least 25 degrees today so thankfully I brought us inflatable tubes. Do you want the pink or blue one? I guess it doesn’t matter, let’s just get in.

Slowly entering the warm (I use this term loosely) water it tickles our legs as we step out deeper and deeper. Step carefully to avoid the rocks and seaweed that cover the lakes floor. Also have to keep an eye out for turtles and other creatures who reside in these waters. The fish can brush their slimy bodies against your legs, which will creep you out and not even faze them. I would recommend checking where you felt it because sometimes it can be leech. They don’t hurt as they bite down into your flesh and start sucking your blood, but aren’t pleasant either.

The next unpleasant experience you’ll have is when the water reaches you waist. You’ll notice an extreme temperature drop. The upper layers of the water have absorbed the suns heat but the bottom remains chilly. I suggest just diving in. Once submerged completely come back up and hop onto your tube. Swing your legs over the side, and plop your bum right in the centre hole. Now just lean your head back, close your eyes and let your mind drift with the currant.

The warmth of the sunshine feels so good. Even though I can see the damage it’s causing on my skin as it turns golden brow and begin to freckle, I can’t help but love that burning sensation. Other than bonfires, the smell of sunscreen and fresh water are my favorite summertime smells. They bring back childhood memories of being at the beach with my family, laughing, playing, and enjoying the beautiful summer months.

This is why I'm glad we moved to a lake, and I can now share these memories with you.

Shopping Senses

The old, ugly green carpets are covered with dirt and salt from shoppers dragging their winter boots across the floor, but tis the season.  Half of the lights have burnt out and the owner refuses to replace them, making the store look dark and grungy.  Thankfully there are yellow signs on every rack and table to brighten the store highlighting the sales “50 – 80% off”.  The coat of dust doesn’t exactly attract customers either, but there are a few that dare to enter.

 The store has two entrances, a right and left side, separated by a four-foot wide wall.  The wall is bare except for a few hoodies that hang from it. On the right side of the store is formal wear, consisting of suits, ties, belts, dress shirts, dress pants and vests.  The left side is casual, stalked with hoodies, T-shirts, jeans, and jackets.

With two opposite genres of fashion, the consumer population is diverse. Although it is a mens clothing store, there are clothes appropriate for everyone. There are purple and red fitted hoodies that could be unisex, winter jackets with longer arms for those who are taller, and a variety of fitted jeans. Many women find mens clothes more comfortable so anyone is able to shop at this store.

However the stores conditions are not appropriate. Along with the broken lights, the vacuum doesn’t work and the cleaning products leave gross residue. The mirrors that reflect back to consumers how the product looks are streaked without being properly cleaned. A store is judged primarily on it’s presentation. This is what initially draws consumers into the store, then it is judged on quality and variety of styles.

With a light layer of dust coating the store the smell is of a powerful mold. This is no ordinary mold but almost like if you had left your laundry in the washing machine for a week then opened it up to all of its ripeness. The clothes also obtain this smell as well as the smell of bodily odors as customers try on numerous sizes and styles.

The feel of the materials isn’t pleasant. It feels cheap and itchy. It looks as though

It was rushed when being manufactured with loose threads and uneven seams. It is very awkward when a customer is zipping up their sweatshirt and the zipper breaks or a snap or button falls off. There are many damaged products that are to be sold for full retail price. However this location created a damage wrack, which just added to the inexpensive look of the store. The rack was jammed with all kinds of damaged clothes it made the store feel like an outlet.

The look is amplified with the stores music selection. There are many channels through Sirius XM, the satellite radio. Yet, the store is only allowed to play three channels, none of them are allowed to have lyrics due to the provocative nature of most current pop songs. This really impresses the employees who look as though they would rather like to sleep, cry or die than be working there.

The whole experience of shopping at International Clothiers leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

Alter Ego

People yell in total chaos as the lights begin to dim. Needles are jabbing, scissors are slicing, and young girls are crumbling like the cookies they didn't eat. Weak with hunger, their frail frames provide a service. They’re bodies no longer theirs, having been sold as a product. We are now the property of another. We stand there all lined up neatly, with our perfect hair and makeup. With towering heels and trembling legs, we huddle close together.

Standing there dressed as dolls we are examined for any imperfections. The sweat oozes from my pores forming small beads of sweat around my hairline, but nothing a little powder can't fix. Once approved, we take our positions. I stand at the front of the line, ready to lead the way. My palms are clammy as I close my eyes and take one last long deep breath. When I open them I feel transformed. As if someone else has taken over my body and mind, someone of elegance and confidence. The music starts, and I step out into the blinding spotlight.

I hear the music, I see the crowed, and I feel the adrenaline rushing through my blood. My heart syncs with the beat of the song as I take my first stride. With my head held higher than my shoes, my shoulders back, and hips pushed forward, I know this is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I feel the material flow and brush against my moisturized skin. The sensation is accompanied with thousands of eyes just on me as I strut down the runway. I couldn’t feel more important and alive as I do within that moment.

That moment that took weeks of fittings to ensure the garments had the exact measurements needed. That moment designers have dedicated months and years into their collections, and makeup artists and hairstylists have poured hours of effort into their skills. It takes an astonishing amount of time to make the vision into a reality. A reality that only lasts for a mere thirty seconds.

However, those thirty seconds are magical. Even to my best ability I cannot describe the energy that flows through me during runway shows. To open the show is an honour. I am always privileged to open, and close most shows due to my height. With longer limbs than the typical model, I can carry extravagant creations. I feel like a Goddess gliding across the stage like a piece of art.

The show ends in the blink of an eye. At the end there is nothing left but threads and empty hangers, but I’m left with a sense of accomplishment and pride. I go home and change into my oversized sweatpants and hoodie. I immediately start eating everything in my fridge unless I couldn't wait and stopped for food on my way home. At the end of the night I am exhausted and just want to sleep. I go to wash the pounds of makeup off my face but notice no amount of scrubbing can remove one thing. It's the smile that is rooted deep within and is everlasting.