Posts tagged ‘seasons’

Seasons of Patience

by: Rebecca Taylor

The seasons teach us patience

They begin in December with winter

Snow covered cedars make us smile

But the white roads mean we must go slower

And share our paths in order to survive the drive we are making.

Next March brings us the start of Spring

Gentle breezes begin to show a change in wardrobe

But mud puddles grow and slush is ever present

Making us readjust our path to get to the car door.

Summer shows her glowing face in June

School is out and children shout with joy

Extra-long lines of traffic as people clamour to leave the city

Everyone loaded down with hampers and sunscreen for the beach.

Autumn joins us in September

Beautiful leaves decorate the deciduous trees

Nights begin to get cooler

As parents and students look at homework together

Then the cycle begins again.

The Treasures of Spring

by: Rebecca Taylor

I was born in the Four Seasons Antique Shop to my parents Mr. and Mrs. Seasons on a bright sunny day in early June. My parents had been together for twelve years when a light shone down from the sky. They looked at one another and said, “This object symbolizes our dreams and hopes of a future filled with love and family. We will call its name Spring.” This is me, and my antique symbol is a treasure chest. For a long time, I did not comprehend why this represented my personality, but I will tell you more about this later.

First, I would like to tell you about my brothers and sister. The second oldest is my sister Summer, she is symbolized by an a bright amber vase. This makes perfect sense because her heart, like the vase’s opening is always open and willing to explore new possibilities. She may be the one with the hardest job in the family, she is the family confidant, because no matter how busy life or the antique shop becomes, she will always take the time to listen. Even my parents turn to her for advice. My brother Fall, the third child is represented by a hundred year old figurine of an ox. This is because he has amazing inner strength, and keeps going even in the most difficult of circumstances. Winter, the youngest of us four is indicated by an old metal sign that reads, “Where you want to be.” That is completely Winter, of all of us Seasons children, he is the most carefree, the one who has the most friends and is always on the run from one activity to another. Like all families, our sibling personalities sometimes clash, and we have our differences of opinions, but it is certain that once all of the bickering is done, that we will reach middle ground even if we do not agree, we still love each other and will do anything for the others.

When we were old enough to understand how important the antique shop was to our family and what responsibility meant, our parents promised us all that if we met three conditions, we would be guaranteed an inheritance. Our parents would not disclose what it was but said that it would be worth it. The first condition was that we all display an interest in the family business and take turns running it. This is the easiest of the conditions to meet. Secondly, our parents wanted us to each find our own niche within the antique business, one that we would study and specialize in. I became an appraiser, and after apprenticing at several antique shops in the country, began to work fulltime for my parents. The third condition is the one that I had the difficulty with; we all had to find our hidden purpose. For Summer, this was not so difficult as she is a very open personage, and her purpose was to go out into the community and help others. She is amazing, and people find it easy to get to know her. For me, I’ve never had the best people skills, being too shy to shine in the spotlight. I prefer to be behind the scenes. I do okay with the customers because I know what I am talking about, but when I’m out in a crowd I usually clam up for fear of playing the fool.

One day, when it was my turn to be watching the store, a difficult situation confronted me, that put everything my parents wanted for me at jeopardy. They have many desires in life like wanting to be able to bestow each of us children with our inheritance once we have met their conditions and they are certain that we can live up to their expectations. They dream of us all finding the right person to be able to have our own families and hope that they have taught us well enough to be able to do the right things in life. A man and a child entered through the back door of the shop, which is always kept locked. I heard the door and crouched behind a cupboard in fear because the back door is only used as an emergency exit. The man kept walking around the shop, and pointing out items to the little boy, which would not have been unusual had he entered through the front door, but he had not and I did not know what to do. Eventually they left through the back door just as they entered. I did not understand how they got in, they must have picked the lock; which meant they were not law-abiding citizens, but why bring the child, and why not take anything if that had been the purpose. I relocked the back door, but did not say anything to my parents when they returned, because I was ashamed. I had hid. That night, someone took several antiques from the shop, the police were called and no one knew how they had entered the store. I knew, and I could have prevented it, had I alerted someone to what had happened earlier in the day. Detectives searched to see if they could find any evidence but everything pointed nowhere. I could not look my parents in the face, I felt as guilty as if I had stolen the antiques myself. My parents and Fall were busy readying the shop to reopen, it was going to keep going, a break in would not stop the family from persevering. They were cleaning up my mess. Summer knew something was wrong by the way I had been acting, I had withdrawn from my family in their time of need.

“What’s going on?” she asked one day about a week after the break in.

“Nothing,” I answered but I am not a good liar.

“You’re not yourself, I know everyone’s rattled since the robbery, but your family needs you. Tell me why you’re hiding from everyone.”

“It’s all my fault,” I answered looking at the floor in my bedroom where Summer had confronted me.

“How’s it your fault, it happened at night when everyone was sleeping.”

“A man and little boy came in through the back door on the morning of the theft, I was scared and hid. They must have been checking out the place for that night.”

“You have to tell Mom and Dad. Do you remember anything about the man and boy.”

“A bit, but Mom and Dad will never trust me again.”

“If you tell them what happened, tell them you’re sorry, tell them you were afraid. Fear is nothing to be ashamed of. You just should have said something earlier.”

“I can’t, I’m the only one of us who hasn’t figured out their potential, and now I’ve failed everyone.”

“Don’t let the thief win; if you don’t face this, he’s going to make you feel guilty forever. Telling them won’t be easy and they’ll probably be upset, but that’s just the stress of the situation.”

“Will you come with me to tell them?” I asked quietly, feeling guilty, nervous about facing my parents and awkward about asking my little sister to come with me.

Summer agreed to help me face what had happened by accompanying me to talk to my parents. They were angrier than I have ever seen them in my life, and they were sad that I hadn’t owned up to what had happened before. The police were called and I had to help generate a profile of the thief and the child. My heart was pumping so fast I thought I was going to pass out. Detectives came back and asked questions of me, and Summer stood by me telling me it wasn’t my fault, that I wasn’t to blame for what had happened. I managed to pull through it, fighting the desire to run away from home and from all of the problems that I was facing. When I was younger Mother and Father always said the one thing they appreciated about my attitude was my calmness, but  I didn’t feel calm, but felt like I had to project it, so I didn’t worry anyone more than they already had been about everything that had been happening.

“We’ve decided that you still have a lot of learning to do about yourself and what it takes to earn a living and your inheritance, Spring. We are not going to give up on our dreams for you,” said my mother one day a few months after the robbery, even though the thief hadn’t been found, and may never be.

I thought about what they said as I worked around the shop one afternoon, after my mother told me this. Something drew me to the treasure trunk that symbolized my birth. It was glowing, something my parents claimed it had done on the day of my conception. I stopped and I touched it, and suddenly the lock undid itself and the trunk opened. I knew then that I had found my place in the world. I knew that I loved the antique business and the work I did appraising interesting articles but something inside me told me that I needed to let myself live, let myself open up, just like the treasure chest that had opened for me, because I was allowing myself to believe in myself again. Somehow, I began to understand more about life, and vowed to discover more. When I looked in the trunk, it overflowed with hand painted signs, with magical words on them like love, hope, and faith. I started looking through all these powerful expressions, taking them all in knowing that they would help me get a new perspective on life, let me open myself up to the outside world.

I let my newfound perception guide me, I spent more time trying to have fun, I tried to be friendlier around the shop, taking time to talk to more people, and not just figure out how much their stuff was worth. My parents and siblings noticed the change in me as did I and six months after the opening of the treasure trunk, my parents gave me the deed to my sixth of the antique shop. I now was part owner in the family business, I was ecstatic, and knew that I could finally put the doubts I had felt about myself since the robbery, behind me, my parents believed in me. I could let myself live in the future, leaving the bad memories of the past behind and taking only the good ones with me into the present.

View from a Dock

by: Rebecca Taylor

In response to Trixie’s prompt


            Warm summer nights and cool lake breezes when the sun is setting and the cottagers venture down to watch is one of my favourite times of the day. Who am I and why am I telling you my story? My name’s Dock and I am the guard between the water and the shore at Crestview Cottage. I’ve seen a lot of changes on the lake in my thirty years here. I was first built by the original cottage owner – Brant Weatherby. He was a carpenter and his hands were skilled. He carefully cut and sanded my pieces and nailed me together to become who I am today. He applied wood stain to protect me from the elements especially the snow and ice of wintertime.

      I love my job because I get the chance to meet so many people and see so many things especially in the summer and autumn seasons. I am never alone because I have made friends with the water and the wind and the ducklings that have made their home beneath my strong plank frame. The water is calm around me and I sit here day after day and watch the comings and goings on the tranquil lake. Boats wander past me on outings and I watch them and their crews enjoy the sweetness of summer. Some of the boats give me clues to the personalities of the people using them. My favourite boat keeps coming back for two weeks each July. Its sail pattern was created by an artist I’m sure, because its colourful design is both alluring and mystical.

            The lake air smells like flowers that grow along the shoreline and sometimes I also catch a whiff of meat and vegetables barbecuing, or of a campfire and the scent of charred marshmallows. These changes make my days interesting because even though I stay in one spot I get the chance to experience cottage life. I hear many expressions about that as my visitors enjoy their morning coffee, a picnic or sometimes a glass of wine. My favourite saying is “cottage life – living it and loving it.” It sums up how I feel in seven quick words.

            My home is beautiful and I adore the sounds I hear – birds singing in the early mornings, a cheerful wakeup song, the water around my footings swishing, children playing and swimming and laughter. It is wonderful to see the beauty of creatures and humans enjoying themselves. The waters are shallow around me and water shone rocks run along the shore. The water temperatures take a lot of adapting to. In the wintertime, thin ice settles over it, making the temperatures frigid but I’ve learned to adapt to the changes and usually hibernate until the ice begins to melt in the spring and the feeling returns to my legs. The summer temperatures are delightful and also bring me the most company. Cooler temperatures begin to return in the autumn and the water is used less but cottage comers bring their lawn chairs and their sweaters and sit on me to photograph the stunning views of the vibrant leaves.

            One of my favourite memories and I’m fortunate that it has happened to me a few times during my existence is watching children learn to walk on my strong wooden planks. One parent watching in delight as the other one holds their child’s hand and the realization that their baby is growing up. Children learn to swim in my calm waters too as their entourage cheers them on. Some of the children have long since grown up and have started to bring their families back to my waters. Watching the circle of life and knowing that I bring pleasure to people is rewarding.

            This lake is my home and the annual visitors to Crestview have become my family. I’m also happy to say that there are other cottages close by and their docks keep me company throughout the year especially on the days when the weather doesn’t encourage visitors to the waterfront. I can see the cottage from my spot and there is something special about seeing the lights come on in the mornings to greet me and when they are shut off at the end of the day saying good night.

            Sometimes I think about what my life would have been like if I hadn’t been built into me, if my boards had been turned into something else like a lonely storage shed or even worse an outhouse. I am lucky to live the life I do, my pieces fit together and I am content. I get to experience nature every day, all day. I never feel like walls are closing in on me and vacationers are jolly people who just want to have a good time.

            So this is my story and who I am. I hope that you have enjoying learning about my existence. Maybe you’ve sat on docks before or seen them waving to you from the water. The next time you visit one, I hope you’ll think of me and know how much your dock is enjoying your visit. I’ve never met a grumpy dock; I hope they don’t exist because we don’t have anything to complain about. We live a life of constant bliss.

Written Therapy

- saving my sanity one word at a time -

Poet's Corner

Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges

lying for a living

make it a good story

BREVITY's Nonfiction Blog

(Somewhat) Daily News from the World of Literary Nonfiction

The Blog

The latest news on and the WordPress community.

Coco J. Ginger Says

Poems and stories of love & heartbreak.

Plenty of Pages

This isn't paper, and we don't necessarily write about paradise.

Make A Living Writing

This isn't paper, and we don't necessarily write about paradise.

Be a Freelance Blogger

Learn to make REAL money blogging for hire

Lightning Droplets

Little flecks of inspiration and creativity

Star Spider

The Musings and Writing of Star Spider

The Dreamers Adventures

This isn't paper, and we don't necessarily write about paradise.

YA Writers - Alumni

This isn't paper, and we don't necessarily write about paradise.

Jeff Korhan

This isn't paper, and we don't necessarily write about paradise.