Breaking out of the boxes I put myself in

Last week I bought myself an anti-aging eye cream. It promises 5-in-1 actions against the dreaded aging process: it supposedly combats dark circles, crow's feet, bags, puffiness, and crepey lids (which I first read as creepy lids, and was quite intrigued by: you never know what the diet- and beauty-industry comes up with next, and I thought they had moved on to creepy lids. Not yet, but it's only a matter of time).

Giving thanks

It's Thanksgiving in Canada today, and as I'm sitting here on my desk, I see fresh snow on the top of the surrounding mountains, and foggy, wet fall magic everywhere. 

Rebirth

The first time I saw the devastation the Lytton Creek fire had wreaked along my route to work, I cried. Large patches of the formerly beautiful forest stretching along the road had burnt down, leaving dark, skinny sticks behind. The ground was scorched, blackened and bare. I saw burnt-out shells of cars, piles of ashes in place of the buildings that used to be there, and hills that looked like they had put on their widow's weeds, black replacing the green.