--insert title here--

On Sunday Rod gave an amazing sermon during which he showed us a book made up of different coloured paper. Each colour represented the different stages of the Christian story. At the centre was red, which represented Christ and his sacrifice. But the page that stood out the most was the one after that. It was white: a blank sheet of paper that represented us and our part to play in the bigger scheme of things. He then asked what we would write on it as our contribution to this story. How would our lives impact the Main Story. I loved the symbolism. As someone who blogs and writes a journal, and ultimately as someone who sees such incredible potential in a blank page or an empty stage, this had a huge impact on me. What would I write?

He went on further to challenge the preconceived notions that have been drummed into us as 'children of the Reformation' -- we who have been raised to believe that our part to play is insignificant in the face of a terrifying God. He boldly quoted scripture where Christ says that we will do 'greater things than these', referring to Christ's miraculous works, and asked us how it is that we have forgotten this. I could feel my heart beating wildly because these words rang true in my soul, and reached for a deeper yearning that I've been ignoring in favour of my Reformation-based inadequacy. This is even in spite of the fact that in my Pneumatology class I learned about the Rhema (the pentecostal translation) and how the Holy of Holies exists within us. At the time it blew me away and my immediate response was that of Peter when he realised who Christ was and cowered in shame saying "turn your face from me, for I'm a sinner". I guess we all do that when confronted with who Jesus is and have our true selves exposed before him. How quickly I seem to forget these things and fall back on the 'worthless worm' theology!

I am grateful for the sermon because it reminded me of the bigger picture. All my striving and anxiety over where I should be, what I should do, etc, all seems meaningless when faced with this. This chapter has ended, I have turned the page and it is blank. This is not to say that I will forget all that has happened until now. That will remain with me because it has shaped who I am. But the new page is ready to be written on. Do I waste it with pointless exercises and repetitions of things that I know or do I step out in faith and boldly embrace change, praying that I never stop learning to love and never stop searching for God? I choose the latter. So insert your own title on this entry. I'll leave it blank as a symbol of that new page in The Story.

Missing ballooning

I've been watching some Lorraine-Mondial 2009 ballooning videos on Facebook posted by a balloonist friend and it's made me very nostalgic. Such wonderful pictures too! Great footage. I've only been twice but both times were magical (between the early starts and the late nights and all the craziness in between!) The second year I went (2005) I decided to make it a road trip. I booked the time off work and drove out Thursday night, arriving early Friday morning only to observe that the morning launch had been cancelled due to the risk of thunderstorms (and they get some amazing storms in the Metz area :) So I drove out to a nearby lake/resort, paid my day fees and decided to get some rest after the long drive.

A couple of hours into my slumber I decided to text a friend who I knew to be staying nearby. He responded and we met up for lunch/afternoon tea at a restaurant. I then joined them back at the airfield for the evening launch, where they invited me on the flight. It was a wonderful flight too! They asked if I wanted to take control but I was in tourist mode and declined. There's nothing quite like the atmosphere around the mass launch of hot air balloons. The sound of burners all around, the hum of inflation fans, the long shadows from the late afternoon sun (or early morning mist!), the stunning panorama of hundreds of balloons. From the ground you would think that balloons are able to steer on their own, but the differing wind directions at height can be incredible - especially at Lorraine.

My 2005 visit was a whistle-stop tour. Back in 2003 I came with a group of people and didn't have the autonomy to do much sightseeing. This time I came for the weekend under my own steam and drove around to many of the sights that I'd missed last time such as Butte de Montsec - a white circular, pillared Canadian war memorial on top of a hill that can be seen for miles. It's quite a trek to get up there but worth it. There's a cast iron map of the local area that features the many battle sites from World War 2 and the shifts in occupation. It's full of history. I stopped in local villages and took walks among 'mirabelle' orchards (like greengages), shopped for inexpensive wine (so easy to come by in rural France), baguettes, cheese etc. Such l'aissez faire... The pace is slow, the peace immense. Here is more than just balloons. I felt enriched by the experience. And it showed when I returned home. I acquired my mother's nickname for me, "Mim the Adventurer" after this trip.

So many adventures have been had around ballooning. I did an intense flying training course in Igualada, Spain. It was one of the hardest weeks of my life and I resented ballooning and balloonists afterward (well, one in particular), but forgave it in the months following, once I'd had a chance to forgive myself for not achieving the goal I'd set out to (obtaining my license). I think my adventure to Canada softened the blow for that one. I now look back and realise how fortunate I've been to have flown in 4 different countries - England, France, Spain and Canada - and how extraordinary my life has been. I could look at what I haven't got -- a stable career, a husband, my PPL, etc -- but what are those worth in comparison to the richness of the experiences I've had? I've had the freedom and flexibility to live the adventure. Even on my trips back to the UK I've seldom missed an opportunity to crew for a commercial or private balloon flight. It's addictive. If I see a balloon in the sky I can't help but follow it to see where it lands (and, in a voyeuristic sense, see who is piloting in case I know them!!) My name is still on official documents stating that I am the company safety officer for a commercial rides business and it makes me smile.

When the days that I don't see a balloon in the sky start to accumulate, the images on the computer become more vivid and enticing. I can't help but long for those days when the skies over Kent and Sussex are filled with balloons dotted across the horizon, to hear the burst of the burner in the early morning rouse me from my sleep and the sudden rush of excitement as I realise what it was that woke me and the subsequent scramble for clothes and footwear as I head for the door to find the source of the noise. I am like a child in these moments. But who isn't?

Today I reminisce the glory days of past ballooning adventures.

Rain

Feels like home... As in, it's raining and 9 degrees C. In August. And it's not that prairie rain that swooshes in, drenches the earth in a matter of minutes then hurries away. It's the damp, gloomy, misty kind of rain that lingers and soaks you through slowly but thoroughly. And I've got to take a bus in it. The Casses, who have been very generous in lending me their car, needed it back yesterday and I find myself without wheels and dependent on Calgary Transit once more. It's actually not so bad. I need the exercise and I can appreciate the city more by observing the world from my bus seat.

Two weeks ago we were baking in the scorching heat of the upper 20s / lower 30s (hot for Calgary) and were scorning the tv ads for bringing their "back to school" themes when summer was clearly not over yet. Now it seems the weather is doing these retailers a favour with autumnal temperatures and a general gloom that comes with the anticlimax of the departing high season. And no wonder there's a gloom. Summer lasts maybe 2 months? Then there is about 2-3 weeks of Fall then it snows and thus begins the greater season of winter that remains for up to 8 months. Spring this year, I am told, was somewhat hit and miss. We had a few days of glorious sunshine in April and May where the weather seemed to perk up and bring warmth to the snow-filled land. Then it would snow again, and not just flurries but huge amounts. When I arrived in June the temperature was as it is now: 9 degrees. It had hailed (but seemed as though it wanted to snow) and there was a lot of rain. The wind had a bite to it and the mountains were still quite white. And so I could still marvel at Winter's final days (although not the deep winter, but the final gasps of a season ending). But the Sun knew better and told of things to come when it emerged from behind the clouds and revealed the true power of its heat, as it should in June, making it too hot for jackets in the sun, but too cold without them in shade. Such an interesting part of the world.

So now I sit at this computer and write of other days while the rain soaks this city and the clouds obscure the sun. But it is mid-August and the sun has not lost the battle yet. Plenty of sunny days to come, and beyond that plenty of Indian Summers in late September, early October. I wonder if I shall still be here to witness and write of those...

Photo de Jour

Vulcan, Alberta. The Mecca for Trekkies. Founded in 1912 before the Rise of Roddenberry and his motley crew, this town made Star Trek its theme soon after the series became popular with a great little museum (white building in background, completed in 1998 I believe) and a whole bunch of murals down Centre Street, not to mention all the town's signs having the Star Trek emblem. Even the great Leonard Nimoy has visited and given his blessing on this quaint little prairie town in Southern Alberta.

I paid Vulcan a visit myself this morning and ventured into the museum, which is free to enter and has all sorts of memorabilia and a little sideshow that costs extra for those who want a walk-in multimedia experience. It also has a mock-up of the set and trekkies can dress up in all the garb and have their photo taken aboard. On leaving - ideally with your Spock Ears, Star Trek uniform sweater, cap, and a mug that says "I beamed to Vulcan, Alberta" - you are invited to sign the Guest Book, and here is where you can get really creative if you want to (although the most creative entry on my page was mine, and that was only because everyone else was from Canada and I gave my home town in the UK...) It's well worth a visit. Oh and to the left of this photo (not featured in it, sadly) is a board with pictures of the crew but with removable faces so you can replace it with yours and stand alongside your favourite characters. Since I was driving solo I couldn't get mine done, nor could I stand under the signpost for Vulcan, giving the Live Long and Prosper sign... Alas, I will have to return either at a busier time or with company. Until then, Live Long and Prosper, friends.

More storms! Yeah!

Innisfail, Sunday August 2nd 2009. This is a view after the storm came over, dumped a whole load of rain and made some noise. Taken from the Anthony Henday Campground while waiting for some friends to return from the wildlife park. It wasn't the most exciting storm of the evening - that came in Calgary when I returned home in the small hours.

2am and the still night was violently broken by 100km/h winds, intense lightning and heavy precipitation. The temperature dropped 10 degrees within 10 minutes and everything went crazy. I got some great footage of lightning on my cell phone but I'm having difficulty rotating the movie, which was taken in landscape, so that it is viewed right side up. Alas, I'm so tired from getting to bed at 3:30am I figure I'll tackle that one when my head is thinking more clearly...

Took the dog for a walk this afternoon and saw trees down and various debris everywhere. Talking with others it seems the entire city was hit by this with some people hiding in their basement because of the strong winds. There were a few moments when I wondered if I should be in the basement taking shelter rather than peering through the french windows filming the sky doing some damage. But I didn't want to miss anything. In some ways I'm glad this occurred at night because there would have been fewer people out and about and so less chance of injury or death (which unfortunately occurred the day before :( but also because the lightning was more vivid. Once the wind died down and the lightning was less intense I went upstairs for a better view. Thinking that the worst was over I thought I'd try and capture some cloud lightning as the storm headed away to the east. It's always the way: the storm was not done with my part of the city yet and 2 strikes occurred especially close, one of which made the alarm clock radio speakers click on the bedside table to my left. You never know where the 'streamers' are (those cute little mini lightning streamer thingies that come up from the ground in an attempt to connect with the 'stepped leader' from the cloud in order for the separation of charge to take place, thus creating the big lightning bolt... am I being too technical?) - it could be that one was coming from the roof of the house, in which case I was lucky it didn't connect. Scary thought.

Mum told me once that when lightning struck nearby it actually turned on her bedside clock radio. I wonder what the science is behind that?

Nature. So powerful, so mysterious.

Hello darlin'...

Now I've gotta say, as far as storms go, this one wasn't particularly spectacular, but it had its moments and a little later on dumped a whole load of hail on Claresholm, Southern Alberta. Of course, it did the amazing hail dump well after I'd given up chasing. But there was some nice lightning in the build up, which mad for great viewing.

This shot was taken on highway 7 heading west from Okotoks towards Big Rock. The crack on the bottom right of the picture is from the windshield of the Honda CRV I was driving in while taking the photo. Multi-tasking... Don't always recommend doing it this way cos there's no time to check how well the photo came out and often you end up shaking it or not getting the dimensions right etc. However, I've had some great pictures from this method so I guess it's worth it sometimes.

I haven't seen as many great storms this year as I'd have liked - at least, I haven't been available to capture them at the right time when they've occurred. One particular storm I regret not capturing occurred around the end of June / beginning of July over Calgary. The system was heading east onto the prairies, but the lower winds were from the south, creating the potential for sheer, not to mention a massively unstable airmass over the region: all the right ingredients for a supercell. I'd just come out from the swimming pool with a friend and noticed the storm brewing. What I also noticed was a swathe of cloud curving at the base as though the storm was starting to rotate. Looking at the direction of the upper clouds and comparing this with the lower clouds and where I could feel the wind coming from I immediately became suspicious of this storm. If anything it looked like it could produce some nasty hailstones. It was already active with much lightning.

We drove alongside it as we headed back to my friend's house and the kids all watched for lightning. It tried to rain a little but only managed a few splashes of large raindrops every now and then. We weren't close enough to bear the brunt of its force. I could see it was heading east abeam of us so I didn't think we'd see too much action. By the time we got home I'd missed the better angle and it had started to dump a whole lot of precipitation so I lost the shape too. It was a mass of dark blue interspersed with pink lightning. I sat and watched it for a while before giving up, knowing that the only chance I'd have to see what this sucker had got had already passed me by. Still, I wondered whether it was concealing something exciting behind that precipitation curtain.

A couple of hours later I discovered via the news that it had formed a funnel cloud but this had been shrouded by rain/hail from my perspective. Luckily someone had submitted a photo to the Weather Network so I didn't miss too much. At least I could still say that I witnessed the storm even if I didn't see the funnel cloud myself (although the suspicious looking swathe of cloud was probably the beginnings of it...)

But aside from that I've not seen many great storms. I've watched as an enormous cell headed north of the city and tracked it on the radar because I didn't have the means to chase it. Watching it pass by and seeing its structure was both exciting and painful - sensing it could produce some interesting stuff yet knowing I couldn't chase it. I monitored the radar back at home and watched the bright colours grow, change shape and form the usual 'hook effect' to indicate that the storm was rotating. I tuned into the Weather Network a little while later and anticipated their report: funnel cloud over Red Deer. Ha! I knew it!! Another one bites the dust.

So enjoy this photo. It's the best I've taken so far this season. Probably not the best shot but I haven't had as much chance to take many photos this year. I shall just have to immortalize inwords the ones I didn't shoot with a camera. C'est la vie...