Kim Hanson

Writing & Quilting

The Birth Place Forest of Silver Springs

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Good day everyone. I wrote this piece for Woods Reader, a beautiful, inspiring publication based in Spring Lake, Minnesota. It can be found in their Winter 2020/2021 issue.

 

The grassy green field was alive with energy and vitality. School children, in groups of five or so, squealed with delight taking turns kicking the black and white soccer ball. Dogs barked; their owners allowing them freedom to run and play. The rush of four lanes of traffic roared by, leading in and out of the neighbourhood. Yet, the instant I stepped onto the spongy path of the Birth Place Forest, all outside sound was muffled. I was embraced, instead, by the sounds of nature.

 

Two prodigious things happened in the year 2002. First, our tiny, healthy, precious grandson, Jacob was born. Second, spawned from the creative minds of community-conscious individuals at BP Canada Energy Group, Calgary Parks/Regional Health and Golden Acres Garden Centre, the Birth Place Forest of Silver Springs was also born. The urban oasis took root on some land originally set aside as a roadway allowance or potential right-of-way. As each baby was born in Calgary, a tiny, healthy, significant tree was planted. Poplar, pine, ash, aspen, bur oak, spruce and Brandon elm began to stake-out their territory. . . roots traversing deep into the soil, establishing new life. The goals of the Birth Place Forest program were simple. To educate, to establish pride and ownership through connection and to form a deep abiding legacy to the trees planted in the urban forest.

Years passed by. Jacob grew. A visit to his tree became an adventure for us. He rode his bike to the Birth Place Forest while I walked alongside. He always rode ahead – so excited to reach our destination.

“Grandma!” he’d shout. “Hurry. Catch up. We’ve still got a long ways to go.”

We always easily found his green ash tree, right where the map led us. Jacob, upon arriving, would drop his bike on the ground and stand beside his tree or duck under his tree or lay on the ground beside his tree.

“Look how big it’s getting Grandma!” he’d say as I snapped a photo.

“Yes, and look how big you are getting my sweet boy!”

We would sit on the cedar bark cushion beside the ash tree and talk, all the while having a snack of juice and cheese and crackers. The perfect picnic.

The Birth Place Forest in Silver Springs grew in unison. The mass of trees began to stretch high into the sky, offering sanctuary and refuge to all the wildlife in the neighbourhood. On hot summer days, the forest was like slurping a popsicle; cool and delicious. In the chilly winter months, the trees seemed to huddle together, offering shelter from the cold, harsh, north winds. But it’s best foot forward came in the fall, when the leaves changed from sage green to amber and golden and glorious.

Calgary, with extraordinary prescience, created nine Birth Place Forests in different neighbourhoods around the city – the first of its kind in Canada. Planting trees began in 2001 and continued until 2009 when planting ceased due to a dearth of suitable land and a sudden lack of funding.

“We require about five hectares of land to plant the trees and we need a site that can accommodate at least 3,000 families. Those sites can be hard to find,” said the city’s urban forestry coordinator.

But in those nine years, the City of Calgary planted 62,000 life-affirming new trees.

Silver Springs volunteers have taken over maintenance and management of the Birth Place Forest, ensuring care continuity. Botanical gardens were created and abut the forest, together stretching over 20 acres of land. Strolling the paths is a spiritual antidote to the stress and chaos in our lives.

“I grew up in a forest. It’s like a room. It’s protected. Like a cathedral… it is a place between
heaven and earth.”
― Anselm Kiefer

Jacob is turning 19 years of age soon. So is his green ash tree. Both are tall, strong and purposeful. He doesn’t visit the Birth Place Forest often, but I do. I walk the paths, revel in the sounds of nature and sit on the bench to collect my thoughts or write in my journal.

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.”
— John Muir


 

It’s a space and a place of peace. I reminisce about my sweet grandson, the wonder pooling in his eyes and the excitement spilling out of every pore. Here in the Birth Place Forest, my connection to Jacob is palpable. Here in the Birth Place Forest there is a deep, abiding legacy to the trees that surround me. Here is nature at its very best.

A Daily Ritual

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Good day everyone. Thank you to all those amazing souls who continue to read my posts. I so appreciate you all taking the time to read my words and to leave your comments. I feel so blessed to have you all here.

While thinking about my son, Mike, the other day instead of feeling so sad, I thought of ways to make my days better.

I came up with three things. I call them my Daily Triple Agenda. (DTA for short).

First, I try to learn something new every day. If I can’t actually learn something new, then I try something new. This idea can prove overwhelming or utterly daunting, but approach it simply. Switching up your daily routine, finding the motivation to tackle an assignment that has stalled or prepare a meal you’ve never made before can all put a checkmark in this box. Basic, simple things like getting your tea at Starbucks instead of Tims. Drive a different route home. Pick up your mail in the afternoon instead of the evening. It’s easy to tweak daily tasks you’ve been doing forever.

Last week, I had some housekeeping duties to perform on my website. In order to set-up an easily accessible online portfolio for prospective editors to access, I had to load up all my published articles to my press page. A web designer had prepared a step-by-step tutorial for me that he sent ages ago. I just left it sitting in my mailbox. I dreaded jumping into this one!

But to be true to my DTA, I took a deep breath and clicked on the link to the tutorial. To my surprise (and delight), the steps in the tutorial were not that difficult to follow! I was astounded and wondered why I had waited so long to tackle this job. Converting all my docs to pdfs, uploading them to my website and choosing a “featured image” was about all there was to it. The result is here. (click on the writing sub-category)

So now when I query an editor, I can point them in the direction of my press page and not have to enumerate what writing I’ve had published. I considered this challenge a win/win. I know this job would still be incomplete if it wasn’t for my DTA.

Second, focus daily on gratitude. I know this comes up a lot these days. But I’m mindfully paying attention to all that I have surrounding me. Sometimes I write down what I’m grateful for. Sometimes I just sit outside in the backyard with my cup of tea and think about what I’m grateful for. Sometimes I think about gratitude at night just before I fall asleep (if I fall asleep!). Again, this one is very simple. Choose to remember three things in your life that bring a smile to your face and a glow to your heart. Your garden, your friend, your pet. Your health, your home, your grandchildren. Having had Mike for 38 years.

Third, I’ve become more conscious of telling at least one person a day that I love them. If I forget during the day, I can always tell my little dog, Sophie, that I love her! Perhaps not a great substitute for a live human being but I do it anyways.

Keeping my DTA in mind has improved my life. Sure, I still concentrate heavily on getting my to-do list complete, but now I take the time to be sure I’ve also factored in my DTA. Somehow, someway doing three simple things a day makes life better, enhances my feelings of well-being and boosts my levels of happiness in the midst of all the chaos.

So, please feel free to steal my DTA or make up your own.

Thanks everyone. Take care.

 

Kim

Death of a Dream?

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As many of you know, I’ve longed for a backyard writing shed for years. I’ve had a recurring dream since my 30’s of a peaceful, tranquil, creative space, all my own.

I visualized a little cottage-type shed, with white shiplap on the peaked ceilings and gauzy curtains blowing in the gentle breeze. My magical space had a built-in bookcase on the back wall, a comfy chair and-a-half tucked into one corner and my desk positioned in the center. Funny thing was that the little shed stood in the middle of the woods, in a beautiful, green-grassed meadow. Obviously, my dream embellished my backyard just a smidge!

I’ve coveted she-sheds of all shapes and sizes. I’ve coveted old sheds and new sheds. I even have a board for them all on Pinterest.

Some of my very favourites:

 

So, so, beautiful, right?

My dream writing space has always represented something tangible to me; a creative place where the words would flow naturally from my brain, to my hand, onto the page. They would flow so easily.

Now, in my 60’s, I still poke around online, looking for that perfect little she-shed. As luck would it, I found one! If it wasn’t perfect, it was near perfect.

Isn’t that cute? Someone was selling this little gem. I loved the tiny wooden porch, the outdoor lights and the scuffed-up door. I was pretty excited, and bonus: we wouldn’t even have to build it! It was already insulated, wired and ready to go. It was a good size – 8′ x 12′ and was located fairly close to our home. Movers were ready and available to move it to my backyard right away. Sounds perfect?

I thought about it for at least a week. I looked at the online photos of the shed every day, inside and outside. I went out into our backyard with my tape measure and paced out the size. Then, I did it again and again. Coming back into the house, I walked down the steps into my basement studio. Taking stock of everything I already had available to me. . . the light and space and comfort I had access to. . . I decided against purchasing this little, sweet, shed.

For days, it felt like “my dream was dead”. After all those years of thinking about my own little workspace, it was so hard to drop it. But, I realized this dream of mine had surfaced long ago, when our kids were young and space was at a premium in our home. I also realized there was no magical place where words would flow easily. Writing is not easy – it’s hard – no matter where you hang your hat.

In my home studio, I have space for my fabrics, my files and my desk. I have storage for scrapbooking supplies and finished photo books. It’s a warm and cozy space in the winter and cool and comfortable in the summer. I do have peace and quiet to write and quilt.

Things change. Life circumstances, mindsets and dreams all change.

My new dream is that I will become an (older!) published book author. Better late than never.

Kim

Chicken Soup anyone?

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Good day. Last week, I heard the doorbell ring and sprinted to the front door. I cringed when my lighting-quick husband beat me to it. Peering over his shoulder, I watched him sign for a large, heavy box. My goal is to always be the first one to the front door. . . just in case the delivery is a giant box of fabric. My husband actually  thinks I have more than enough fabric already!

But this box was not fabric; it was way too heavy. Not being familiar with the return address, I ripped it open. Much to my surprise and delight, inside were my copies of  Chicken Soup for the Soul – Making Me Time. My story, Somewhere In-Between is featured within the pages of this inspirational book. 

This is a thrilling first for me; a non-fiction story of mine being published in the Chicken Soup series of books. I am pretty excited that all this is happening. The story in the book comes from one of those times that life overwhelms and you find yourself sitting alone, outside in the dark on the backyard deck at 3 o’clock in the morning. 

The book goes on sale soon; February 16, 2021. It’s available in bookstores everywhere and online.

Thanks so much everyone!

Kim

Third Act

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Months ago, I came across an editorial piece in a women’s business magazine. The writer, a middle-aged female, was lamenting her reality; that she had spent so much time on building her business that she had missed out on precious time with family. Her business was very successful and over the years, she had expanded its reach.  She was rightfully proud of what she has created, yet so regretful of the day-to-day family activities she had not witnessed.

As I read her words, I realized it was exactly the opposite for me. I’ve always had such grand business ideas that have not been fulfilled. The lion’s share of my time has been devoted to family. My husband’s job has always taken precedence – I worked a part-time job away from home, took care of our three children and ran our hectic household.

Our three children grew into lovely, caring, responsible adults. When I was 46 years old, and still kinda filled with a youthful exuberance, our lives were blessed with the birth of our first grandchild. I was able to take care of our boy during weekdays for four years, while his parents were at work. I learned very quickly that I didn’t  really have youthful exuberance, he did! Jacob wore me out, but those four years were truly some of the best of my life. We went everywhere together…he has such an adventurous soul. We visited the Y, the library, the zoo – and met some of the best people ever, especially at the local Y. He’s now almost 16 years old and I pray that our time together in his youth established an unbreakable bond for life.

I’m turning 62 pretty soon and now my Dad’s health is in decline. His driver’s license was taken away by his family doctor sometime ago, so I’ve become his eyes and ears on the road. Prostate cancer, alarmingly high blood pressure, kidney issues and deteriorating vision keep us both very busy with countless doctor’s visits and scans, scans and more scans. He needed an emergency CT scan and for expediency, his doctor sent us to High River, a town 45 miles away from home. The appointment was at dawn. Neither of us will ever forget the spectacular sunrise that day, the laughs we had or the great health care professionals at the tiny High River hospital. Sometimes, when we’re at the Mall for his haircuts or having a blood draw at the clinic, we take a few minutes and walk and talk and he grabs a coffee. We sit in the food court and he tells me things I never knew. Stories I’ve never heard.

I’m beyond mid-life and approaching my third Act. In retrospect, I may have regrets in my life, but I will never regret all the time I’ve been able to spend with my family. Thanks to my husband, who has always supported me no matter what, I’ve done what I’ve really wanted to do. I’ve wanted to be there to watch our kids grow. I’ve wanted to be there to spend time with our grandchildren. I’ve wanted to be there when my parents need me in their last days. I’ve been blessed to be able to do all of that. Thank you God.

 

Kim