PICTURE PERFECT

A late afternoon stroll in the brisk, cold air of the January deep freeze, brought us to a scene out of the past. Rinks of all sizes have popped up on the Avon.

Pickup games of hockey, children donning their skates for the first time, folks huddled in groups to talk, or helping to shovel.

This is community. This is Stratford!

CHEERLEADERS

Canada geese are gathering by the hundreds on Lake Victoria.

Walking by the river recently we saw (and heard!) the most interesting display. The geese were floating peacefully when suddenly they began to honk, louder and louder in a great crescendo of sound. One of them stretched up on his legs in the water and flapped his wings with great strength. Others also began to beat their wings, causing a great stirring and splashing of the water. Slowly they lifted off and formed their noisy V across the sky.



This in itself is not unusual, as it seems to be a regular autumn rehearsal before they head to warmer places. What we had never noticed before was that the birds who remained began to honk vociferously as if cheering on their comrades. This cacophony of encouragement lasted for a short time, and then the whole scene repeated itself, again and again until the river lay empty and silent except for the low chatting of those who had stopped to observe.

Summer Music in the Park

August 7, 2009

A lot of things have been happening around town during the past twenty days. Let me tell you about some of Stratford Summer Music's outdoor events, where costs are covered by donations rather than ticket sales.


Three or four times a week one can sit on the grassy knoll by the boat house or on the ramparts of Veterans Park and listen to “Barge Music” performed by world class musicians. TorQ Percussion Quartet were amazing as they entertained us with a variety of xylophones and drums. I was sorry to miss the Chameleon Barbershop Quartet, as I heard from those who attended that their show was a lot of fun and not entirely “Barbershop-y”.

The Sax-O-Matics Quartet, added humour and a wheel of chance as well as fine musicianship to their presentation.





On the Holiday Monday, now called Simcoe Day, I wandered down to Lower Queen's Park to enjoy the OLG Bluegrass Blowout and classic car show. For six hours from mid-afternoon until dusk, one could enjoy the music of five different blue grass bands. There was lots of delicious food from various Stratford restaurants and cafes, a sectioned off Beer Tent area,
and a large area for people to set up their lawn chairs, and mingle with friends.




As the evening progressed, the open area in front of the stage became a spontaneous dancing area for many young children who were there.

What I like most about these events, aside from the music itself, is the whole sense of community that arises from people relaxing in nature and sharing a common experience.

This feeling is part of the wonder of my Stratford.

You Never Know!

July 17, 2009

The breezes were stirring gently as twilight tinged the sky. Strolling along Downie Street, I soaked up the silence after the crowd had moved into the Avon Theatre for the evening's performance. Restaurateurs were bringing in their patio chairs and getting ready to close. There was a sense of quietude, of tranquility.

As I walked, I glanced up and there they were. Gargoyles? In Stratford?

Indeed. They rest atop the condo building across from the Y, as if guarding the area where our youth are known to gather. Memory took me back to a cartoon show when my boys were young where certain gargoyles came to life to protect the citizens of their community. Ah, imagination!

Some gargoyles have a rather scary look, but these ones are kind in countenance.


You never know. Perhaps they do come down to enjoy the sweet peace of Stratford on a summer night. You never know.

GARDENS AND GARDENERS

June 16, 2009

My Stratford is a place of exquisite beauty, with gardens to touch the soul.

A short piece down the road from my home is a garden that I have admired from afar. In my imagination it has become “the Secret Garden”. Lofty spruce with branches sweeping down to touch the earth create a natural privacy fence. Through the holes in the branches, last year I spied the most amazing blossom tree I had never seen, a tree totally covered with brilliant rosy hues. On a clear day, with the sun bathing the garden, one senses a myriad of colours beyond the low slung boughs. Everything I have been able to see looked so delightful, so enticing, with a wonderful blend of blossom,grass and ornamental leaves to perk up dreary corners. This year they had even added small beds under the spruce, with rocks, hostas, and a few choice blossom plants.

Today as I walked by, I noticed a sign stating that there were plants for sale. On my way home I noticed the pots up towards the house, and stopped by to take a look. As I was reading the signs, I heard a voice asking if there was anything she could do to help. There on the porch the owner was sitting relaxing. I told her how much I admired her garden, and becoming very brave, asked if I could see it. “Yes, by all means. Go on in. Take your time.”

Words can barely describe the array of perennials woven with artistry among the winding grassy paths. When I thought I'd reached the end, a corner appeared with yet another path leading beyond a pergola to a cosy garden shed. A jeweled peach iris, delicate columbines, grasses, and a few well-placed statues and crockery created a rare and pleasing natural gem.

When I returned to the entry point, the gardener and I exchanged pleasantries. I discovered they had moved here ten years ago, and aside from the first three beds which a professional had created for them, everything else they had done themselves. It has definitely been a labour of love. We left with a promise to do some sharing of plants.

As I walked home I realized that it is not only our gardens that are beautiful. It is our gardeners too!



The pictures I am attaching today are of city gardens. Perhaps another day I will get permission to share this special garden with you.

DOGS, CATS AND CHINA

June 12

Strolling along Ontario Street, one of Stratford's main streets in the downtown core, my eye was caught by the beautiful hanging baskets by Watson's Bazaar. I paused to take a picture, thinking how fortunate we are to live in a town that values natural beauty to such an extent. The gardens here are phenomenal, as anyone who has traveled this way will know.

But this morning, as I lined up my photo, I became aware of the hanging sign, something I had never really noticed before. “Kids and dogs welcome”. That might not be so unusual if it were a pet supply store, but Watson's Bazaar specializes in fine china and other home décor. “Kids and dogs welcome!”
That is true Stratford hospitality in a nutshell. If you enter the store, you will discover three or four large cats lounging among the store displays, or wandering by to greet the shop visitors before going for another snooze. Obviously they must be pretty tolerant since their owner welcomes dogs and children into their presence.

Dave Bradshaw, the original owner of the store, passed away this January. If you dropped into the store in his latter years, you would often find him sitting in one of the carved wooden chairs near the front of the store, ready to greet his clients as he rested with his dog. Having been active in Stratford politics, and well known for his often humourous and sometimes sardonic letters to the editor, he was one of Stratford's flamboyant characters, almost an icon, one could say.

My Stratford! It is a place that welcomes cats and dogs amidst the china, a place that breathes originality, and adopts with pride those who march to their own drummer.

REFLECTIONS

June 11, 2009

My Stratford is a place of reflection and peace. This morning as I went for an early stroll by the river, I was captured by the perfect reflections of the houses on the north side, stunningly beautiful and far beyond the capabilities of my camera to reproduce. Nevertheless, it offered a time of reflection as I tried.

My memory wandered back to days of my childhood, going for walks along the river with my mother on a hot summer's day. The Shakespearean gardens were a place of enchantment then, and are still one of Stratford's often unnoticed havens of peace. Approaching them from the north side under the Huron Street Bridge I discovered a patch of exquisite greenery, hostas of all kinds, tucked where only a walker could view them.

This summer I am determined to walk along new pathways to see what other treasures Stratford holds. Camera in hand I will capture them as best I can and each day that I write on this blog, will share with you another brush stroke on the canvass that is “My Stratford”.

Stratford in the Sp0tlight!

This past week-end, Sp0tlight Festival brought a weekend of free Arts activities to Stratford. I discovered it quite by accident, as a friend and I sauntered along the Avon and thought we heard music.

Ascending the hill to the band shell in Upper Queens Park, we came upon a concert in process. La La La Latin was a bit of a hidden jewel, having drawn only a small crowd. Herencia Latina, a salsa band from London, ON, entertained us with a variety of instrumental and vocal sound, presented with a driving energy and a sense of underlying joy and celebration. To our surprise the pavement in front of the stage suddenly became the venue for a couple of Latin dancers. Later on I surmised that this was part of the act, but what a sense of fun these two dancers brought to the event. Saucy, sexy, and flamboyant in style, they certainly had the moves to interpret the sound! Before the end of their show they had several members of the audience, (and even a dog!) up learning the moves of a Latin line dance. All too soon, the music came to an end, but what a beginning to the weekend events!

Having been well entertained on Friday evening, I set my sights on taking advantage of some opportunities to learn. On Saturday I attended “Writing from the Core”, a workshop presented by Charles Mountford, Poet-in-Residence for the Stratford Public Library. It was a hands-on event, which challenged the dozen or so participants to think about our writing in a new way. Sunday afternoon brought “Where do Songs Come From?” presented by Kate Ashby-Craft at the Church Restaurant. Practical chat about songwriting, interspersed with some of her original work, lent itself to an enjoyable afternoon. Treating myself to a coffee on the way home, I was delighted to find a troupe of Morris Dancers performing on the street outside the Queens Inn.

The brochure states, “ The Sp0tlight pilot project celebrates the artists who enrich our lives and make out cities vibrant places to live. Most of all it offers you the chance to witness the creative process and participate in the arts.” There were only a few taking advantage of this marvelous opportunity this year. Hopefully it is a festival that will grow and see more of our citizens enjoying the fun in the years to come.

June 5, 2009 - Where are the Ducks?

The call of a beautiful spring evening compelled us to walk by the river in search of the new cygnets, that the Beacon Herald had proudly displayed on the front page this week. The river walk seemed strangely deserted...not of people, but of ducks. Normally at this time of year, we would see many families of young ducklings following in their mother's wake. Eventually we saw one little one, and further along a mother with 6 or 7 young ones. Also noted was a predominance of the beautiful male mallards displaying their vermilion feathered caps; pretty, but certainly not conducive to a healthy ongoing community. Apparently we are experiencing a rise in the population of predators, who not only destroy eggs and go after the young, but also have been attacking and killing the females.

Looking at the cute fuzzy little ducklings one feels saddened at this increase in the death toll, and yet, without enough predators, the community also suffers. It's nature's laws at work, the law of supply and demand. When the fowl decrease sufficiently in numbers, the predators will move on, and once again the river will surge with renewed paddling of ducks each spring. We can only hope.