Coffee Shop Ambiance

My latest bit of writerly play is running coffativity (http://coffitivity.com/) with music as a background for writing. What does that mean, you ask?

There’s a theory that the noise level of a moderately busy coffee shop is good for stimulating creativity. I’m now working to a background noise of saws and nail guns, as a house goes up next door. Sometimes I just leave and work at the library or in a coffee shop. But I like to work at home.

So I link in to Coffitivity, for coffee shop background noise, add some music, adjust volumes so the music is just a little louder than the coffee shop babble, and get to work.

Does it help? Yes, I think so. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, maybe it’s crackpot and I’m in the pot … but for now, I’m trying it. It’s kind of fun. I listen to Latin music and want a cafe con leché, listen to classical and want some tea… at the very least I’ll be drinking more.

Maureen

White Camas

Wildflowers bloomed everywhere on our last trip to the mountains. My best picture: white camas (Zygadenus elegans). According to my sister’s guidebook, still one of my favorites even though it was published in 1990, white camas is poisonous, although not so much as death camas.

http://www.amazon.ca/compact-guide-wildflowers-Rockies/dp/091943357X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1374325583&sr=8-1&keywords=wildflowers+of+the+canadian+rockies%2C+C+Dana+Bush

White Camas

Watching the Mountains Change

We’re in the mountains, staying at Baker Creek at the western edge of the recent flooding. We’ve seen signs of flooding all the way up – roads open but not fully repaired, stream beds hugely larger than they used to be.

Buddhist teachings say change is inevitable. I love the Burgess Shale site as a constant reminder of how even mountains, which seem changeless, exist because of change. The site used to be an under-water ledge near where Australia is, and is now a fossil bed high above Emerald Lake.

But to see change in action is another thing altogether. The mountains were created by the movements of tectonic plates, and then carved by water. We see that power at work now, in the aftermath of the flooding – in the piles of gravel, the creek beds four times as wide as they used to be, following new paths, as parts of the mountains are reshaped. Change in action.

It’s hard to simply accept it, as is the Buddhist way. I find myself tense, reminded again of the power of the damage, and edgy at dark clouds building.

And I’m fascinated, too.

Maureen

The new gravel at Baker Creek