When Cooking Matches the Mood

The cooking bug can send you on a glorious high.

For me, it often strikes during those bursts of creativity, when I need an outlet that's steady and satisfying. For those of us who love experimenting in the kitchen—tweaking favourite recipes or exploring entirely new ones—cooking becomes a medium for emotions and artistic expression.

The energy matters; it should match the mood. Yesterday was a fabulous blue-sky, sunny day. The patio door was open, and I watched fitness enthusiasts running and cycling on the paths in their shorts and T-shirts. The mountains sparkled under the radiant sun, and the Earth seemed to call out, 'Let’s do this!'

Berry Chocolatey Banana Muffins

My father shares my enthusiasm for cooking, though from afar. Living continents apart, I can’t treat him to samples of my kitchen adventures. Instead, I send him pictures with little descriptions. It’s become our ritual—he playfully ‘complains’ that I make him hungry, and it’s sent and received with affection, a bond that bridges the distance.

Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto

Cooking also brings gratitude: I’m reminded of the abundance I have in my little world.

Smoked Salmon With Avocado and Cucumber Roll, and California Roll

Today, though, the energy is different—soft, subdued. The mountains seem content to retreat behind their cloudy blankets, as if recharging after a raucous day of play. The grey sky feels like a pause, inviting snow to dance down at any moment. My mood mirrors nature’s quiet calm, and it’s all good.

Leonora Ross is an artist and novelist from Western Canada. When she’s not writing novels, she enjoys writing whimsical poetry and prose and is an avid mountain hiker and amateur photographer. Her writing and photography have appeared in several literary journals. Read more about her latest novel, A Life in Frames.

A Mixture of Spring, Summer and Autumn Flowers

"Are not flowers the stars of the earth?"—Clara Lucas Balfour

Spring is here (although we're still having snow on and off) and I will soon buy baskets filled with fragrant petunias to adorn my balcony. Here in the Rockies, flowers aren't as extroverted and only the robust survive in a garden with lots of TLC.

These are some stunning flowers I've captured in recent travels.

Summer - Street flowers in Victoria, Vancouver Island, B.C.

Autumn - Flowers in Giverny, France

Spring - Cherry Blossoms in Victoria, Vancouver Island, B.C.

Spring - Intoxicating hyacinths at the Butchart Gardens, Victoria, Vancouver Island, B.C.

Spring - Cherry Blossoms in Victoria - Symbols of beauty and the fleeting nature of life

Autumn - Mexican Bush Sage - Monet's Garden, Giverny, France

Summer - Dahlias at the Butchart Gardens

Spring - Breathtaking magnolias - Butchart Gardens

Lessons in Ageing From the Wisdom of Trees

What if we could learn the secrets of resilience by simply observing the bark of a tree?

Beautiful Old Oak

Trees understand the importance of aging much better than we do. While humans often view cell degeneration with fear, trees embrace it as an essential part of their existence. The contrast lies in perspective: we look at ourselves from the outside inward, scrutinising our flaws, while trees live from the inside outward, rooted in purpose and patience.

The Beauty of Bark

Unless you're a scientist or an artist with a keen eye, you likely only notice saplings in passing, marking the promise of new life. As trees grow older, their bark becomes one of their most striking features. Up close with a mature tree, you might struggle to wrap your arms around its massive trunk, yet what captivates you isn’t its scale—it’s the intricate patterns of its bark.

Each fold, groove, and scar is a map of its life, formed by years of cell renewal and degeneration.

Underneath the bark lies a story. Every year, the cambium layer produces new growth on the outer and inner sides of a tree. The outer phloem transports sugars but dies off quickly, compacting into the beautiful bark we admire. Within the tree, sapwood carries nutrients, but as it ages, it too dies, becoming the durable heartwood. Over time, these processes create the folds of bark and the core resilience of the tree.

Longleaf Pine

Parallels to Human Life

In many ways, trees mirror our own aging process. We accumulate knocks, bruises, and wisdom over the years. Wrinkles on our faces, much like bark, are evidence of a life lived—each line telling its own story. Yet, unlike trees, we tend to judge these marks harshly, absorbing negative thoughts that seep into our heartwood and weaken our inner strength.

Resilience and Community

Trees show us how to endure life’s onslaughts without judgment or resistance. They never compare their bark or resent their scars. Instead, they stand together, supporting one another in a network where survival of the colony matters more than individual pride. Adult trees nurture weaker ones, creating a thriving ecosystem. This lesson in connection and mutual care reminds us of our own capacity for resilience and empathy.

Embrace Your Bark

Spending time among trees brings us closer to their soulful patience and purpose. It teaches us to embrace our flaws and appreciate the story etched onto our bark. Trees remind us that the imperfections we fear may be our greatest attributes, evidence of growth and endurance.

So next time you stand beneath the shade of an old tree, look at its bark—then look in the mirror. Can you admire your own story the way the tree does?

Leonora Ross is an artist and novelist from Western Canada. When she’s not writing novels, she enjoys writing whimsical poetry and prose and is an avid mountain hiker and amateur photographer. Her writing and photography regularly appear in literary journals. Read more about her latest novel, A Life in Frames.

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