What a Tangled Web...

The leaves are only budding on the trees and the weather teases, with warm days and chilly nights. The temperature creeps up and then it creeps down. Nothing is reliable in this interim period between summer and winter officially known as spring. It's a place where the chill of winter languishes in patches longer than expected.

Spring on the prairies. What does that mean exactly? It's a tangled web of weather uncertainty - rather like the beginnings of a suspense, nothing is for sure.

Nothing for sure except the fact that the last bank of snow in the back yard officially melted to nothing less than a week ago. The birds have been diving at bird feeders for weeks now and a sparrow has taken charge of the bird house. The crows arrived for an early visit and then flew off - destination unknown.

Today, a ratty looking squirrel with a patch of fur missing from an obvious mating spat, arrives on the deck with a hopeful look. I feed him a peanut or two - and possibly the attacker as well, when another appears shortly after. It's a divisive job this occasional feeding of squirrels for there's those that agree and those that disagree.. But I can't help it, for even in the city, living in the so-called wild, isn't easy.

Anyway, enough city wilderness philosophy. It's time to get back to writing where ironically I'm going to put my heroine and hero in the most uncomfortable situation I can come up with. And no, unlike the squirrels, I won't be providing food or shelter. They have to come out of that on their own. Okay, I'll offer them a route to safety right after I throw them into a pit of danger.

the adventure begins today!

Ryshia

www.ryshiakennie.com

It's Here to Stay!

 The snow arrived last night and kept on pelting down for the day. Now, there's no running barefoot quickly across the deck without getting snow caught in your toes. Winter has set in. In fact that snow of last night has continued through the day, pelting down and covering every attempt I have made to shovel the sidewalk clear. I'm going to be upfront in saying that I really dislike the first week of snow when it first begins that process of really settling in. yes, this snowfall is here to stay. That means a new reality, four and a half months of snow and cold. I want to run for cover or just for sun and heat. I suppose that's why snowbirds exist - not birds but the people who leave, spending an entire winter in warmer climes and not returning until the last snowflake has melted. 

So, let's head out on the first done that, been there, trip of the year. Otherwise known as, 

In the meantime - here's this author's first footprint in the snow. Yes, I did it, walked out into the snow in my barefoot. Some things you just have to do. 🤷

Throw Back Monday - Seriously?

Today's throwback is taking us to Au Nang, Krabi, Thailand well over a decade ago.

Au Nang, Krabi, Thailand is a place where limestone cliffs seem to punch the sky before spiralling roots into the ocean. It is a place of caves and mystery, and where James Bond appeared in “The Man With The Golden Gun.”

In Au Nang there are streets lined with hotels and offers of kayaking expeditions to see the caves and monkeys. The offers are everywhere. You can't not sign up!

So, the journey begins...

After a forty-minute car ride from Au Nang, the road stops at the steps of a small, unpainted, house. To the left is a large wooden dock.

There's a longboat beside the dock with two Thai men waiting. One speaks no English, our guide speaks a little. It's a challenge for either side to communicate but doable.

The boat has two small plastic kayaks tied behind it. We get into the boat with the guide and head into a river that is hidden by mangrove tree branches that crowd together and hang far over the water.

Suddenly, the guide stops the boat. He motions in few words that it's time to kayak.

Seriously?

The river is dark and unwelcoming. I've heard there are crocodiles here and I'm not anxious to see one up close and personal - at least not in a small yellow craft made of mere plastic.

But, it's the yellow kayak or end the trip here. It only takes a minute to move to the smaller craft - two of us in one, the guide in the other. Now, the river's thick, dark placidity is creepy as I get in the kayak and both boats rock. I sit down and grab an oar. But paddling doesn't come naturally. The kayak jerks with false starts and splashing. Beyond that, it's quiet, the river wide and complacent in its pen of lush vegetation.

Minutes in and monkeys appear. One furry head pops out from between the thick tree limbs that stretch into and over the river. Then another emerges beside the first. Within minutes there are a dozen or so. But the first one is different. He's much larger than the others. While the smaller monkeys hang back, the larger one jumps onto our guide’s kayak. He immediately bares his teeth and charges for the bananas that our guide has stacked beside him. The guide holds him back with his paddle. The monkey pushes back. To our horror the guide gently smacks the monkey with his paddle. The guide stands, the kayak rocks as the monkey charges again. I want to intercede, tell the guide to back off before someone gets hurt. But in another minute it's clear that this is a dance the two, monkey and man, have played many times. As I realize this, the monkey grabs an overhead branch and swings up and away from the kayak. Weirdly, this seems to be a cue for the smaller monkeys. One by one they balance along slender branches, dangle mid air for a second or two, and then plop onto our guide’s kayak. There, they playfully jostle against each other.

The guide feeds them bananas and offers us none so we can't join in feeding the monkeys. I'm annoyed by this until he explains with minimal words, that it's too dangerous. Although I would have loved to join in feeding - danger or not, it's not an option for the language barrier takes arguing off the table. So I take pictures of the monkey’s antics instead. Overhead I glance up and meet the watchful eyes of the patriarch.

Soon the peace is disturbed as another monkey appears. A female obviously monkey matriarch, as she too, is bigger than the others. She lands in our guide’s kayak and explodes into action as she screeches and chatters, attacking one small monkey and then turning on another. Snarls and screeches combine with the guide’s shouting. The kayak rocks as the monkeys scramble away from both the angry female and the guide’s swinging paddle. She pushes one monkey as she snarls and bares her teeth moving the smaller monkey closer to the edge of the kayak.

I’m horrified when the small monkey finally dives off the boat. The female attacker dives in the water after him. They spin under water and wrestle end over end before resurfacing near shore, scrambling out and shaking like dogs. As I watch this I realize a few things, one that they can swim and two that this is a ritual not a war - for no one has been hurt. And now more monkeys are diving into the water from the trees. They swim and playfully wrestle as they get more bananas by hanging onto the edge of the guide’s kayak or scrambling into it.

One monkey crawls into our kayak. I’ve never been this close to a primate and am amazed at his little hand with its human-like nails. He glances at us and upwards to the trees and I realize that our boat is too far from a tree for him to jump. So we paddle to an overhanging branch and the monkey looks at us one last time before leaping into the trees.

With the bananas gone, the monkeys quickly disappear. Quiet closes in as the river moves through a canyon of limestone cliffs. The sun is muted by thick foliage and the rock that hugs the river. Soon we enter the cave where the water has carved ancient pathways.

The journey ends at the ocean. There, our longboat appears and the kayaks are tied behind for the return to our starting point. This was an unexpected adventure.

None of this was what I expected. Instead, it was an adventure to remember.

Ryshia

www.ryshiakennie.com

Who Calls? - Into the Past to Reach the Present

A road trip this summer took me to the Qu'Appelle Valley. I spent happy days in my childhood free ranging in that valley as we visited my grandmother. In the city there were rules - in a small town, we could wander free. That left me with great memories of the valley.

In fact, my first book From the Dust was set there. I always imagined that the farm perched on top of Cemetery Hill and bordering the cemetery, belonged to Binnie Clark, an activist for women's rights, who came from England and pulled her brother's farm from the brink of bankruptcy.  Of course, while Binnie and her farm were real, I'm only hypothesizing on the exact location. 

Cemetery Hill - is that its real name? I don't know. What I do know is that a cemetery sits on the peak of this hill that overlooks the town of Fort Qu'Appelle. As the hill drops into the valley - you find the oldest graves. There are plots of people who died as far back as the 1800's. As the cemetery pulls away from the valley, the graves ease into years rather than centuries ago. 

In my latest story - a two decades old tragedy begins on this hill.  And, as I wander around the cemetery, I read the tombstones which tell their own stories. Stories I realize that can't be told in a line or two so I fill in the blanks with my imagination. 

It's a happy place and a sad place all at once. There's lives well lived and lives cut short. But there are also so many stories. Those stories are real but they inspired another - this time, it's completely fictional. 

So, as I settle in to work on the next story, the valley and the history of those that came before become both an inspiration and a guide. 

The adventure begins today!

Ryshia

www.ryshiakennie.com

Not Quite the Last Days of Summer!

Yep, autumn began a few days ago but this week has the promise of a lingering summer. It began today, I admit - cooler temps. But, the weatherman is promising a margarita weather type day for the rest of the week. I'm not holding my breath. Instead, I'm enjoying the week.

First up - I hauled out my roller blades. Yep - hauled, there can be no better word for they were buried in the storage room after more years than I want to admit of stagnation. So with some trepidation I pulled them on and tottered off. Soon, the old spring in the blades came back and I went not once but twice around the neighbourhood. And yes - for you safety conscious, I should have strapped on the helmet. But all was well...next time...yep, there's a next time...next year - fingers crossed.

Meantime, I'm looking forward to the next "end of summer" adventure.

And while I do that, my latest heroine, Jorie, has just received a message from the hero - Justice.
 
Her reaction, or more appropriate - thoughts, immediately after his text?

What a name to go through life with. It was off-putting.

Of course, with a murderer on the prowl in this story - who was named what for why is the least of their worries.

Ryshia

The adventure begins today!

Throw Back Monday - been there, done that!

Not Quite A Stroll on the Beach

Welcome to “Throw Back Monday”. These are the posts where I’ve gone back and delved into my blog and pulled some posts from quite a few years ago. Yep, I’ve been blogging for a long time… Despite the time warp, it's a trip of sorts, a trip through time.

  Too much work, and no vacation, 

 Deserves at least a small libation. So hail! my friends, 

and raise your glasses, Work's the curse of the drinking classes. 

 ~Oscar Wilde Oscar Wilde did have an interesting spin on things. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

   

Just outside the village of Patricia 

 A few years back I was on the road exploring another bit of the country. While I’m calling it a vacation, I'm still thinking about what I’m writing - this story or that. But the guilt at having fled from my computer for days at a stretch is like sand in my shoes or flip flops, easily brushed aside. Anyway, while choosing one road over another that took us on a quaint drive through ranch land with patches of scrub brush giving subtle indicators of what's to come. The villages along this route reference women in one way or another; Princess, Patricia, Duchess, Rosemary, Countess and Millicent. I want to know why but don’t find the answer. 

 But I digress. It was a zig instead of a zag that led to the road to Alberta’s badlands and Dinosaur Provincial Park. There were dinosaurs with absolutely no hint of Jurassic - I hoped. Okay, it was a road sign that sent us down a road to the past. It was a twisted road and took a few turns to get there. And no, there were no sign of dinosaurs, not yet. 

Slow Down for Snakes? 

My rule on wildlife – slow down for anything! Okay, back to snakes – fortunately, there were none. Of course, it was a hot day, and any self-respecting snake would have long ago hunted down shade. 

 The rough, prairie scrub grass opens into a vast, timeworn valley. It's beautiful and yet eerie, especially if you think of it in the context of what it is - a giant reptilian cemetery. Okay, maybe that was slightly macabre, but the truth is that the valley is littered with dinosaur bones. In the summer months, paleontologists come here from around the world to participate in digs. 

 Then there’s the warnings! 

 There are numerous signs, warning of preserved, off-limits sites with notices to leave all bones and fossils where they lay. And then there’s the warnings that are a little more disturbing. Again, watch out for living critters who aren’t as friendly as the dead - black widows, scorpions and, of course, rattle snakes. No worries there – I didn’t venture off the path. Who knows what slithery thing is out there! 

Creepy crawlies aside, it's not often in my day-to-day life that I'm reminded of the ice age or the extinction of the dinosaurs. But when you stand on the precipice of this valley it's like you've been rushed back in time to a place you can barely imagine. The valley is a testament is a reminder of the power of nature and that once, the earth looked nothing like it does now. 

Way back when, when dinosaurs walked the earth. All in all, it was the perfect detour that only created a small zig instead of a zag across a secondary highway and into another world. It was a detour that could kick anyone's imagination into overdrive. 

Did I find a fossil or even a bone - nope. But I did locate a piece of wood that looked amazingly like a leg bone. That is, if you used your imagination Ryshia …the adventure begins today!

Ryshia

                                                  …the adventure begins today!