This is NOT a day to buy real estate!  The reason?  Because things today are unforgivably perfect. The negotiating table would be redundant.  The weather is incomparable – sunny, warm and crystal clear. Everywhere I looked, to the right, to the left, straight ahead, all was magnificent. The rolling fields of cornstalks waved in the wind. The burnished trees along the up and down corridors glistened in the slanted sunlight. The distant farm outbuildings and country homes were like oil paintings. There must be something in the air. The soft wind was clear and mellow. Yet it was seemingly loaded with replenishing ointment to assuage the bluntness of reality. And the sunlight! Nonpareil! At this time of year, autumn, the late afternoon glancing beams reflected the crimson blush evident throughout the countryside.

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Two tiny communities in Lanark Highlands have a big impact. As I shamefully acknowledged this afternoon to Timothy Booth, the Vice-Chair of MERA (McDonalds Corners/Elphin Recreation & Arts), I am – notwithstanding having practiced law and lived in nearby Almonte for nearly 50 years – only recently acquainted with MERA. In my defence, my ignorance grew not from lack of interest, rather simply from the compelling and restrictive obligations of my career. It is only now, since my retirement in 2014, that by coincidence my partner and I choose no longer to winter in the United States of America.  As a result, after completing the usual summer recovery and medical attendances, we are now paying attention to local evolutions and revolutions. Most recently was our introduction to MERA to attend a performance of “My Own Private Shakespeare” by actor/script writer Justin Hay. Its unqualified success prompted today’s attendance.

Elphin and McDonald’s Corners are connected by road and shared community initiatives, primarily through the non-profit MERA (McDonald’s Corners/Elphin Recreation
Arts). This organization operates out of the MERA Schoolhouse, a central hub for arts, crafts, and cultural activities that serves both communities. They are also linked by a rural road (County Road 12, formerly Highway 36) that runs between them.

MERA (McDonalds Corners/Elphin Recreation and Arts) recognizes that artists are essential to the vitality and well-being of the communities in which they live and work.
The MERA Award of Excellence in Fine Arts and Fine Crafts celebrates local artists who demonstrate excellence in their work.

The focus of today’s exhibition at MERA (see link below) was the photography of Hugh McBride.

Hugh McBride – photographer

In an unprecedented favour we were able to chat liberally with both the artist and his wife, connecting dots and background detail to themselves and the photographs on exhibition. The foregathering had all the advantages of a museum recording and a private social convention – distinguished inimitably by its overriding serene rural atmosphere.

I confess that I am chuffed about what I have lately learned of MERA. Once again it makes me proud to live in the country! MERA is one more credential of vital importance to add to the shield of rural accomplishment. I naturally share the support of our local artistic community which repeatedly achieves these heights of success. The continuing efforts of “The Ten Collective” in Almonte (where we live) is but one further example.

The Ten Collective

Assembly such as promoted by MERA and other local artistic venues constitutes an improving educational outing and a decidedly personable colloquium. This combination of intelligence and sociability is a meaningful contribution to our community, elevating daily life from endurance to refreshment.

Meet the Artist – Hugh McBride

Featured image “Cow in Winter” by Hugh McBride

It is unfathomable to me that one can bear the deprivation of breakfast.  And yet I have known those who do. Many – including historically my own dear mother – routinely start their day with nothing but a cup of black coffee.  The sparsity of the routine perhaps speaks to indulgence the prior evening. On the other hand, many who survive without breakfast are notably thinner than others who do not. This feature identifies what to me is an unexplained restraint when it comes to food.  I enjoy eating. A good meal is for me the height of success – reflecting nature’s unbridled relationship with appetite. It is a highly sensual process as significant as that of a former hunter (and here I am going back millennia to the origin of the species).

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The field of brownish dry cornstalks rustles in the wind. Waves of uniform rolling movement. The river responds correspondingly – rippled plateaux flying across the surface of the water like the reflection of a fugitive cloud above. This morning when asked, “What’s the news?”, I hadn’t much to say.  We’ve nothing planned. There’s been nothing of import lately. But privately I’m getting a grip on life.

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Though I have been variously occupied throughout the day since awakening shortly before eight o’clock this morning, the occupations have certainly been of my own necessity – that is, doing what I prefer to do rather than what I am obliged to do. Lately I am less and less resilient to obligation. I quickly tire of appointments (whether medical, dental or merely renewing a passport). And obligations requiring immediate attention (most often those involving mechanical functions and disfunctions) push me to the edge of tolerance. Having at the moment a lull in the proceedings is a welcome state of being. It is an infrequent spectacle; and one guaranteed soon to exchange for the alternative. Hence its propitious feature.

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In the modern world, people throughout the globe – from North America to Africa to Asia – are more likely to own an iPhone than to go to church or temple. It may appear a small compliment; and an even more outrageous accommodation. But the replacement of the probity of religion by technology is real. The entrancement is similarly overwhelming.The mechanism of the fantastic and the unbelievable has not commensurately altered. Instead we’re facing a new demon with like obscurity. The advent of AI (Artificial Intelligence) has provoked among the masses a seemingly epic change and intrigue in the world of commerce including in particular everyday sales mantras and successes at the base of the economy. The scrambling is notable for its unprecedented gusto – possibly an insight into the legitimacy of the fluster. Historically however my experience is that Nature of whatever character is governed less by hysteria than practicality – that is, discernible and digestible logic. Maintaining a clear mind and balance – especially in the realm of the unknown – is imperative to avoid being swept away and deceived by what in retrospect is a far less disquieting alarm with a far more obvious solution.

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When I was a child it was not uncommon to remark upon the sudden appearance of large earthworms after a heavy rainfall.  The worms seemingly sought to escape the underground deluge of water. The metaphor: a change of circumstance provokes a change of behaviour; the flooding of one is the reveal of another; the aeration and draining process is universal; when one goes down the other comes up, and so on.

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The term self-expression is one which at first glance is a pursuit patently absorbed in what is dangerously close to – and nothing more than – navel gazing.  On the other hand it signifies what is merely the flat and inescapable truth or axiom that one’s expression – or one’s pronouncement or articulation of the universe – is ultimately personal.  Allowed this broader and more forgiving nature, the perilous preoccupation becomes a less introverted exposition of the outside world.

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We’ve been to see a one-man play performed this afternoon at the MERA (McDonalds Corners & Elfin Recreation & Arts) Schoolhouse theatre in rural Lanark Highlands. The thespian event satisfied every credential of the ideal rural outing: perfect weather, easy parking, plates of homemade cookies and coffee in the waiting room upon arrival, audible theatre and visible stage, singular performance, old friends, new acquaintances and dinner afterwards at the golf club.

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My dear Fiona,

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