Snow art -- by Simon Beck

Simon Beck is a mapmaker, bellringer, mountain biker and trekker from Taunton, England, now based in Bourg St-Maurice, France. In the artist's own words: 

Simon Beck

I create by walking in the snow wearing raquettes (snowshoes). My personal face book website is facebook.com/snowartist. It started as a little fun after skiing one evening. Back in 2004 I was still taking orienteering seriously and used to train in the forests in the valley or hike up the Aiguille Rouge, the mountain above Arc2000 after the lifts closed in the evening. One day I couldn't be bothered but wanted a little exercise, and I got my Silva type 54 compass I use for surveying orienteering maps and went onto the little snow covered lake outside the building I live in, plotted 5 points in a pentangle; and joined them up to make a star. I then filled in the 15 triangles that resulted and later added some circles and the result was impressive especially as there is a nearby chair lift that gives a bird eye view of the lake. When fresh snowfall covered the design I did another more complicated design. More...

The following article is cross-posted from http://www.viralnova.com/simon-beck-snow-art/

It’s possible you’ve never heard of Simon Beck, but after today, you won’t be able to forget him or his wintry works of art. Simon is an artist and is most well-known for making incredibly delicate and detailed art in the snow, just by walking over a fresh snowfall. He literally walks miles in the snow to create these pieces. And the part that blows our minds? He could spend hours upon hours creating one design, just to have it be covered by snowfall or blown away by the next day. But he still makes them.

Simon walks over layers of fresh snow in special shoes to create his mind-boggling art.

Simon Beck

He can easily walk for miles just to create one design.

Simon Beck

CAREFULLY walking.

Simon Beck

But the results are worth all of the effort. In fact, they are mesmerizing.

Simon Beck

The most interesting thing about this art, though, is Simon creates it knowing it could be gone the very next day.

Simon Beck

These delicate patterns were created in the beautiful Savoie Valley in France, overlooking Mont Blanc.

Simon Beck

Simon found spaces in between lodges and mountains at the Les Arcs ski resort to create his masterpieces.

Simon Beck

He creates large, mathematical patterns that have different effects when viewed from different angles.

Simon Beck

At different times during the day, his creations will look different.

Simon Beck

It’s just hard to believe that he spends countless hours making these…

Simon Beck

Only to know that they will be gone from this world within a matter of hours or days.

Simon Beck

If you’d like to see more of Simon’s art (which is genius bordering on insanity), visit this Facebook page dedicated to it.

Everyday Miracles 2: a blizzard in Iowa – by Jim Kessler

cancellations and freedom from pressing responsibilities

the beauty of horizontal flying snow
blessed isolation

enchantment and heat from flames in the fireplace
time to think great thoughts
the purity of fresh pure white snow

a day to do whatever came to mind

thankfulness for a warm, tight abode

birds flocking to feeders a hundred at a time

the joy of spending time with my beloved

dazzling white savanna and prairie

quietness and simplicity

a sense of the greatness and power of God my protector. provider, and Saviour

the intricate patterns of drifts

delicate snow and intricate snow flakes

childlike joy and breathlessness on a snowshoe hike at dusk

smallness when observing power in the wind

a simplified landscape

the beauty of the Creation magnified

a day of peacefulness, joy, calm, and thankfulness

more reason to care for the Earth and its multitude of living forms

fullness and purpose for living

peaceful rest

No pipelines on Wet'suwet'en land -- Toghestiy (Warner Naziel)

On 20 Nov 2012 the Unist'ot'enCamp evicted Apache pipeline surveyors who were found entering Unis’tot’en territory, and recently had to evict them again. (* see historical note)


Toghestiy, hereditary chief of the Likhts'amisyu clan of the Wet'suwet'en invoked biKyi'waat'en, the right of the husband, warning them never to return without the pipeline company respecting Free Prior and Informed Consent protocol under UNDRIP and international law. He gave an eagle feather to the crew. In Wet'suwet'en law, an eagle feather indicates a first and only warning of trespass (reported in rabble.ca 4 Dec 2012).

Hear his wife Freda Huson's family story explaining traditional native life on the land, and reasons for the action. "We will allow no pipelines on their territory; it is a heritage from our ancestors, to be passed on to our children's children."

The Unist'ot'enCamp is a resistance community whose purpose is to protect unceded sovereign Wet'suwet'en territory (no treaty has ever been signed) from pipelines whose emissions will wreck the planet -- coming from the Tar Sands and from shale gas fracking in the Peace River Region. They point out that natural gas from fracking is 80% more carbon-intensive than conventional natural gas. The Pacific gas line owners were Apache Corporation 40%,  EOG Resources [formerly Enron] 30%, and EnCana 30%. (Toghestiy writes that Encana and EOG have both sold all of their shares to Chevron after our successful Day of Action on November 27th.] The tarsands pipelines from Northern Gateway, Kitimat Summit Lake Looping Project, and the Pembina and Kinder Morgan Pipelines plan to cross the headwaters at the exact point where the resistance camp is built. See this set of pipeline maps, and the Ottawa's plan for termination of native rights.)

Their opponents with billions of dollars at stake, and more billions in profits expected, are supported by fossil lobbies, banks, governments, police forces, military and spy drones -- all making determined attempts to threaten, divide and rule the natives. But the Unist'ot'en have country-wide backing from other natives in the non-violent Idle No More movement, churches, human rights organizations and environmentalists.

BC gas pipelines: 
Apache-EOG-Encana (yellow), Pacific Trails (red), Spectra (blue)
The camp, in Unis’tot’en Territory of Talbits Kwah, has attracted Native resisters for the last three years. It is at the sacred headwaters of the Skeena, Bulkley, and Babine Rivers - on the shore of the Wedzin Kwah [Summit Lake]. Read the Unist'ot'en Camp blog and First Nations Land Rights for more details.

*****

*Historical note: the Unist'ot'en eviction of surveyors echoes the beginning of the métis resistance of 1870, misnamed the "first Riel rebellion". Modern historians point out that the métis were fully justified under international law, with Prime Minister Macdonald (much against his will) forced to negotiate land claims, provincial rather than colonial status, and a Bill of Rights. In later years, many of these hard-won rights were swept away by racist Ontario settlers and corrupt politicians, provoking a second, bloody and futile rebellion. Can we behave better 150 years later?

No pipelines on Wet'suwet'en land -- Toghestiy (Warner Naziel)

On 20 Nov 2012 the Unist'ot'en evicted Apache pipeline surveyors who were found entering Unis’tot’en territory, and recently had to evict them again. (* see historical note)


Toghestiy, hereditary chief of the Likhts'amisyu clan of the Wet'suwet'en invoked biKyi'waat'en, the right of the husband, warning them never to return without the pipeline company respecting Free Prior and Informed Consent protocol under UNDRIP and international law. He gave an eagle feather to the crew. In Wet'suwet'en law, an eagle feather indicates a first and only warning of trespass (reported in rabble.ca 4 Dec 2012).

Hear his wife Freda Huson's family story explaining traditional native life on the land, and reasons for the action. "We will allow no pipelines on their territory; it is a heritage from our ancestors, to be passed on to our children's children."

The Unist'ot'en Camp is a resistance community whose purpose is to protect unceded sovereign Wet'suwet'en territory (no treaty has ever been signed) from pipelines whose emissions will wreck the planet -- coming from the Tar Sands and from shale gas fracking in the Peace River Region. They point out that natural gas from fracking is 80% more carbon-intensive than conventional natural gas. The Pacific gas line owners were Apache Corporation 40%,  EOG Resources [formerly Enron] 30%, and EnCana 30%. (Toghestiy writes that Encana and EOG have both sold all of their shares to
Chevron after our successful Day of Action on November 27th.] The tarsands pipelines from Northern Gateway, Kitimat Summit Lake Looping Project, and the Pembina and Kinder Morgan Pipelines plan to cross the headwaters at the exact point where the resistance camp is built. See this set of pipeline maps, and the Ottawa's plan for termination of native rights.)

Their opponents with billions of dollars at stake, and more billions in profits expected, are supported by fossil lobbies, banks, governments, police forces, military and spy drones -- all making determined attempts to threaten, divide and rule the natives. But the Unist'ot'en have country-wide backing from other natives in the non-violent Idle No More movement, churches, human rights organizations and environmentalists.

BC gas pipelines: 
Apache-EOG-Encana (yellow), Pacific Trails (red), Spectra (blue)
The camp, in Unis’tot’en Territory of Talbits Kwah, has attracted Native resisters for the last three years. It is at the sacred headwaters of the Skeena, Bulkley, and Babine Rivers - on the shore of the Wedzin Kwah [Summit Lake]. Read the Unist'ot'en Camp blog for more details.

*****

*Historical note: the Unist'ot'en eviction of surveyors echoes the beginning of the métis resistance of 1870, misnamed the "first Riel rebellion". Modern historians point out that the métis were fully justified under international law, with Prime Minister Macdonald (much against his will) forced to negotiate land claims, provincial rather than colonial status, and a Bill of Rights. In later years, many of these hard-won rights were swept away by racist Ontario settlers and corrupt politicians, provoking a second, bloody and futile rebellion. Can we behave better 150 years later?

Everyday miracles 1: snowflakes

Caltech professor Ken Libbrecht's research into snowflakes, ice crystals, and their growth:

This morphology diagram shows how they are formed under different conditions of temperature and humidity:

And a few of

his stunning

photos.

More at his Caltech website, his snowcrystals.com and in the book Ken Libbrecht's Field Guide to Snowflakes.

Why we winter our bees outside -- by Noëlle De Roo Lemos (Madame Miel)

First week of March. Temperatures are rising, snow starts to melt. Maybe today our bees will feel like getting out of their winter semi-lethargy to savour the open air.

As I told you previously, our colonies winter outside, carefully wrapped for protection. This technique, unlike the rest of Canada, is somehow not too popular in Quebec.. But it works for them, and for us. First of all, leaving the bees outside is practically time and cost free. No need to transport them inside, no need for investments in ventilation and refrigeration. Secondly, their spring development is quicker. As daylight increases, queen bees start laying eggs sooner. And we think wintering outside makes them generally stronger. We like them to venture out, sun and weather permitting, to cleanse their guts. The snow around the hives is sprinkled with little yellow dots. Bee poop. It's charming, and good for them.
But even if colonies thrive through winter, they may still die before summer. Spring is a crucial time for bees. All sorts of ailments may potentially affect them; they can die from a shortage of honey, from lack of brood due to inefficient or absent queens. This is why, as soon as the temperature rises to 15° C (around 60°F) beekeepers have to check the hive and take quick action.

In early March such actions are premature. It is important however, to allow easy circulation on the bottom board. This is why with a small stick I clean out debris or dead bees that obstruct the entrance. I also slightly lift the winter packings that partially shade them. Let the sun shine in!

As I step backwards to enjoy the scenery, a small bee alights on the zipper of my yellow anorak. She slowly climbs, leaving behind four little yellow droppings. She carefully cleans her back legs before flying away. Absorbed watching my visitor, I hardly noticed that her partners have flocked outside -- in a burst of life! There is excitement in the air. Lilliputian dancers start performing a ballet, to the rhythm of their buzzing song: "The Rite of Spring". My day is made!

February, in the honey house -- by Noëlle De Roo Lemos (Madame Miel)

The author, an anthropologist, has done research in Martinique (West Indies), Portugal and Mexico. Later, for approximately two decades, she did environmental assessments in remote areas of Quebec, like the Middle and Lower North Shores and the Nunavik (Northern Quebec), then as a project manager, before retiring. As a hobby, she and her husband have been keeping bees in the region of Montreal for more than thirty years. She promises more stories.
*****
This weekend I decided to have a look at the honey house. It's February. The bees are sleeping in the beehives outside. They bravely face the cold in the warmth of their cluster. A few are lying dead on the snow. They were unable to resist a little outing on an unusually warm day.

The empty honey house still smells beautifully... of wax and of flower scents from last summer's honey.

Curiously enough, at the very same time, a friend who helped construct our cottage ten years ago, sends me this email: "When revising your plans with the Company, we used your name for the honey extraction room: 'Honey Room'. The men working on the plans had great laughs with us. To them 'honey room' meant a room of love: a boudoir."

Coincidences, words, smells, feelings intertwine -- like this little winter honeymoon in the honey room.

(Please click on picture to see all the details) Photo: N. Lemos

Laughing, crying, living, dying: two poems

from the conference Sense and Sustainability, U de Montréal, March 2009.

The Art of Walking - by Michael Mirolla. Published in Penumbra, Vol. 15 (2005).

The roadkill rises, eyes rimmed in red.
The racoons, the rabbits, the rats. And you.
We dwell on the edge of somewhere. Like angels perhaps
flirting between possibilities. Like angels maybe
licking each other’s wounds.
A gaunt cow stands knee deep
in a sub-divided field. Stares out in the fervent hope
of slaughterhouse. That quick clean cut to the jugular.
Here, the signs come fast and furious.
Oops! You’ve just missed Camelot.
An exclusive enclave. For the millionaire. In each of us.
Sheep manure for sale. By appointment only.
Call Art.
The highway leans hard into the wind, its dull roar
like a grinding machine for the future. It spits out
godliness
detached housing
luminosity
evergreen rugs.
One-legged flamingos stalking the elusive fast-food wrapper.
Cars snapping at the heels of brittle corn stalks.
The highway leans hard into the wind. Behind it,
civilization’s stubborn convoy.
Impressions of faces against taut plastic.
Crucifixes around the necks of mourning doves.
Vacuum-sealed.
In the distance,
The hills continue to ovulate.
The trees strain against their leashes.
The windmills ride off half-cocked.
The snakes, the skunks, the squirrels are rising. And you.
We live on the edge of nowhere.
In a quiet cul de sac.
We reside on the edge of nowhere.
In a quiet cul de sac.
The sign at the end of the street:
Roadkill ahead.

Michael Mirolla is a Montreal-Toronto corridor poet novelist, and playwright. He has published two novels, Berlin and The Boarder, collected short stories, The Formal Logic of Emotion (an Italian translation is forthcoming) and Hothouse Loves & Other Tales, and poetry, Light And Time; bilingual English-Italian poems Interstellar Distances/Distanze Interstellari are forthcoming. His short story, “A Theory of Discontinuous Existence,” was selected for The Journey Prize Anthology; another short story, “The Sand Flea,” won first prize in the Arkansas College Media Association Convention and was nominated for the Pushcart Prize. His short fiction and poetry has been published in numerous journals in Canada, the U.S. and Britain, including several anthologies such as Event’s Peace & War Anthology, Telling Differences: New English Fiction from Quebec, Tesseracts 2: Canadian Science Fiction, the Collection of Italian-Canadian Fiction, and New Wave of Speculative Fiction Book 1.

A Funeral Song for Magda July 3, 1922 - February 16, 2005
- by Ilona Martonfi

On a bitter February day
a light snow falling,
mother is the blue sky.
Bare catalpa tree:
seed pods rattle in the wind
in my blind sister’s backyard.

Mother is the water
washing her daughters’ hair.
Laughing and crying,
in my blind sister’s kitchen.

Mother is the body I carry,
twelve white roses and baby’s breath.

Silver grey hearse.
Cars and lorries pull over:
a small-town tradition.
Cornstalks and funeral flags.

Mother is the railway crossing:
a cemetery on the right.
Six pallbearers and requiem choir.
Purple glass bead rosary.
A Hail Mary full of grace,
in my blind sister’s voice.

Mother is the empty room
we didn’t enter for ten days,
in my blind sister’s house.

This poem by Ilona Martonfi first appeared in Vallum Spirit 5:2, (2007), forthcoming in poetry book, Blue Poppy, (Montreal : Coracle Press, 2009). Her publications include a Coracle Press chapbook, Visiting the Ridge (2004), poems in Fiddlehead, Vallum, Carte Blanche, Carve, Bibliosofia (Italy), Accenti, Arcade, Headlight Anthology, Soliloquies, Helios, Montreal Serai, Fire With Water, Poets Against The War, Fruits Of The Branch: A Montreal Branch CAA Anthology, and Sun Through the Blinds: Haiku Today. Finalist in 2007 Quebec Writing Competition. Published story, “My Daughter, Marisa,” in CBC Story Anthology III, In Other Words: New English Writing from Quebec (Véhicule Press, 2008). Poet, editor, creative writing teacher. Founder, producer/host of The Yellow Door and Visual Arts Centre Poetry and Prose Readings. Co-founder, producer/host of the annual "Lovers & Others".

Winter thaw - by Martha Younger

break in the blizzard: photo Chris Hoare There are no adjectives or expressions to describe this day! The house shakes, the flue tiles rattle, at times the roof hums like a boat on a tight tack and, all around us, it sounds like horror-movie banshees angrily screaming and swooping to get in the house.

I have just come inside from battling the elements. It is, in a word, exhilarating and a bit scary. I am proud of myself as I man handled – woman handled - a forty foot, 10cm diameter tree off a broken fence, only to watch another – even bigger one - slowly rip its roots out of the sodden ground and at first, hesitate, stop frame, then crash down on the fence not fifteen feet from me. As I looked around at the trees waving like grass above me, retreat seemed the better part of valour and I moved the horses to a safer paddock away from flying debris.

Two days of rain has all but melted the waist-deep snow cover and the pond has overreached its banks forming a moat around the higher parts of our lawn. Even the several inches thick ice has melted. I am glad that our house is built up the hill.

At 6:30 am, when I went down to the barn to feed the horses, it was 10C, fully thirty degrees warmer than it has been for the last three weeks. I opened the door to let fresh air into the dank, moist barn. The horses have been in since winter came to an abrupt halt two days ago causing treacherous footing for both equine and human. I went up to the house to get a cup of coffee and an hour later the wind came screaming in causing the temperatures to dive and when I returned to the barn for morning chores it was -2C.

Rising temperatures and high winds: this weather is enervating and the children’s voices are pitched higher. The ponies' tails are flagged and eyes are bright as they dash around – not chest deep in snow – for the first time since mid-November. I am afraid for their safety and have carefully chosen paddocks without trees and some snow cover for footing. Difficult when you live on a former pine plantation. They won’t be out for long today – but after two days in they needed to move about. Even a crow seemed to be flying backwards as its body was tossed up then abruptly down as it battled towards a solid tree.

My face is still tingling from leaning into the wind as I pushed heavy wheel barrows up the muck heap, dragged hay, safely stowed in hay nets, to the ponies and buckets of water to the paddocks. It is a relief to sit for a moment. I feel like I need a nap, but the continued rattling and Wizard of Oz scenes of debris flying by the window make me think that perhaps I better not.

-- Martha Younger raises horses on the Niagara Escarpment in Flesherton, Ontario