The tiny musings found below will perhaps provide you an opportunity to pause and reflect on our world and our place in it. You can subscribe to receive posts in your inbox (approximately once a week)! Note: all writing and art is © Christopher Buddle.
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Sea shells forever.
beach treasures
are reminders
of the miracle of existence
Several months ago, I received Maria Popova’s publication An Almanac of Birds: 100 Divinations for Uncertain Days. It is stunning. A few times each week, I tuck several of her cards into my backpack and read them on the train—small anchors of reflection amid motion.
Earlier this week, one card offered a line that lodged itself firmly in my mind: “Never forget you are a breathing accident of chance.” It stayed with me longer than most words do. Around the same time—perhaps not coincidentally—I found myself making ballpoint drawings of sea shells (see above!).
There is something deeply satisfying about finding shells while beachcombing. Part of it is their quiet beauty: spirals refined by repetition, surfaces worn smooth by time and tide. But for me, the deeper pull is this—when you hold a shell, you are holding the remnants of a past life. A life that existed because of a long and astonishing cascade of contingent events.
This life—and the countless species that share the planet with us—are not inevitabilities. Nor are they purely random or haphazard. They are, instead, dizzying in their improbability. For natural selection to act, there must be variation: the right mutation, arising at the right time, under the right conditions. The proper mix of amino acids, nutrients, energy, pressure, temperature. A chain both resilient and fragile, stretching across deep time. It feels almost miraculous that it was never broken.
How did sea creatures—squid and sharks, sand dollars and periwinkle shells—emerge from improbability into existence? And how did we? The rational scientist in me readily attributes this to evolution and the steady, unsentimental power of natural selection. But at the same time, there remains room for wonder, awe, even the mystical or spiritual. These perspectives are not in conflict. I find them mutually enriching.
I am deeply grateful for Maria Popova’s gift of reminding us of our impermanence—of our fleeting tenure on this planet—and for reminding us how extraordinary it is that we get to share this world, briefly, with so many other forms of life.
The next time you see a sea shell resting on a mantle or shelf, consider that it is far more than a souvenir of a past trip to the ocean. It is a quiet testament to improbability. A small, durable echo of life that once breathed, endured, and vanished.
Much like us.
© Christopher M Buddle 2026
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Winter birds
atop the pine tree
winter birds, ever watchful
the red sky dawns
Happy New Year to all!
I hope everyone had a restful break and the new year is now upon us. With it, at least in northern hemispheres, the daylengths start to draw longer again (phew), although it is bitter cold and ice and snow are blanketing the landscape. The crows? They are around, of course. My obsession with them continues. Ever interesting, ever present, ever curious.They are among the best of the winter birds.
© Christopher M Buddle 2026
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Flying
in the dark of night
fly and glide, from tree to tree
leap of faith
As I have mentioned before, I am involved with a local conservancy land trust, and our group has trail-cams in the forests, fields, and next to wetlands. We recently captured footage of flying squirrels – oh my! For some reason, I had not fully appreciated that they were here in southern Quebec. I think part of this is perhaps in part because of their nocturnal habits. I love thinking of these little mammals jump-flying from tree to tree.
And here we are – flying quickly towards the new year. I won’t post again until the new year – I need to get some downtime and find ways to re-energize in 2026. I hope you continue to follow, engage, and keep on finding ways to revel in our natural world, whether art, poetry, or any other creative act!
© Christopher M Buddle 2025
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snail away
slow and steady pace
a world of millimetres
shared with us
I recently finished a heartwarming and lovely book, titled The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating. It’s a bit hard to describe, but does touch on natural history, healing, spiritually and it is a book about appreciation of nature, no matter its speed or size. If you read this book, you will never look at snails the same way, and that’s a good thing.
© Christopher M Buddle 2025
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trees of November
bare branches shake
as north winds descend
deep roots
all your leaves are gone
quietly await spring
gentle backyard giant
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(yes these days I’m still obsessed with ballpoint pens)
© Christopher M Buddle 2025
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pocket poems
I did a poetry reading last Sunday evening – at the Accent Open Mic event in Montreal. I was honoured to be a ‘featured poet’ and read some poems about toads, rabbits, and green mountains (no surprises there!).
I have been writing a lot of haiku, and developed a process by which I carry a small tin around with a stack of paper and wee nub of a pencil contained therein. When I have a moment of time I write small poems about what I see, where I am, or what I am feeling. At the poetry reading, I shared a stack of these mini poems, and called them “pocket poetry” or “pocket poems” – they are unedited, quickly written, raw poems.
This is a way to capture a moment and the accumulation of these poems is a fun record of life. Poetry and journaling are close cousins, for me. Maybe this can become a thing. I love the idea of lots of people wandering about their world, ready at a moment’s notice to write some pocket poems.
I thought I would share a few here, today.
PS Interestingly, common phrases and themes do emerge when lots of short poems are written. “Fear the full moon” shows up twice, above, yet these pocket poems were written weeks apart. Huh.
PPS Whether these mini poems are haiku is debatable. I find the form and approach does generally resembles free verse haiku. Or maybe not. Who cares, really.
PPPS I know I have been quiet on this blog – it’s not because creative projects are stalled out – quite the opposite – too much on the go! I’ll try to get back on track going forward.
© Christopher M Buddle 2025
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Autumn garden
october hues
flowers gone to seed
fade away
As the light fades and frosts arrive, the birds are busy in the backyard, searching with great enthusiasm for fading insects, seeds, or other nourishment. The coneflowers have gone to seed, now starkly standing in the garden, side by side. It is beautiful, with a touch of melancholy.
(I’m trying other forms of art than watercolour – I’ve been playing around with the most simple of art tools: a ballpoint pen. Great fun!)
© Christopher M Buddle 2025
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toad friend
autumn frosts
the toad starts a slow dance
rest, old friend, rest
© Christopher M Buddle 2025
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Vernissage: Birds, Buddies, and Beer
Enjoy some art! Hang out with your buddies! Grab a beer!
I’m happy to announce today an upcoming ‘beernissage’ at a local microbrasserie. I will be co-presenting art alongside a friend. Birds, for me, portraits and landscapes for Paul (some examples of both are here in the post!).
An example of Paul Gelinas’ work Most importantly, however, is that the sales from all the art will go directly to Creek 53 – the local conservancy land trust I am involved with. Anyone who buys the art will be directly contributing to the protection of wild lands and the biodiversity therein.
The vernissage will be on 16 September at 7 PM at Cardinal Brewery (466 Main Rd, Hudson QC) but the art will remain on the walls of the brewery from now until sometime in December, so you can stop by anytime in the coming months if you happen to be in Hudson, Quebec (which, by the way, is a charming small town!).
PS if you like the art, I’m always open to special projects and commissions – reach out if you have questions!
PPS yes this is the Big Project I mentioned in my last past – I’ve been so busy doing larger format (28″ x 20″) watercolours for this show.
© Christopher M Buddle 2025
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Cats, dogs, bugs, birds, and frogs
the creative process
meandering, lost, sometimes found
days become life
I have been reflecting on the creative process recently – in part because I’m deep into a Major Project (you will learn about it soon!), and also because I have been flipping through old art journals (the art, above is from one a few years ago – I love the title “Cats, Dogs, Bugs, Birds, and Frogs”). I remember doing those pages in the journal, and remember it being fun and energizing.
But at other times the creative process is a slog. And while my one Major Project is going well, there is another one that I am completely stalled out on (and it’s been on my list for months). I keep trying and I am never happy with the end product. I’ve restarted it a dozen times, to no avail.
This has me once again assessing how and when to find energy for art and writing – but more precisely – when the creative process is fun and end-product is something I like! The entire process is difficult to define. Glancing through Rick Rubin’s “The Creative Act: A way of being” helps a lot. The books is a wonderful reminder about how being creative can be playful and fun, but also is never linear or predictable. It is about just doing it, and not being obsessed with an end product, or a specific project. Doing what feels right instead of forcing the act. Pay attention, be open, and lean into it.
I especially like Rick Rubin’s list of things that are not conducive to the work (meaning, the things that go against fulfilling creative work). The list includes “Believing you are not good enough”, “Never finishing projects”, “Impatience”, “Believing a certain mood or state is necessary to do your best work”, and “Abandoning a project as soon as it gets difficult”. These are powerful reminders, and illustrate the strength and power of negative vibes.
I am too stuck on the end product, and too stuck on my own assessment of a work’s quality. I’m sure many of you feel this way too, whether it is with creative work, ‘regular’ work, or in your relationships with others. “I can be better”, “I did that wrong”, “They will think poorly of me”, “I am not worthy” etc. Indeed, lessons from The Creative Act are applicable to so many facets of life.
What to do, then, when feeling stuck or unsure of next steps?
This is the big question, and turning to Cats, Dogs, Bugs, Birds, and Frogs for clues is key, at least for me. Just do stuff. Just make it messy, have fun, and don’t overthink. One pencil line, one sentence, or one wash of watercolour is the step to take. You need not think of the next dozen steps. It starts with one.
I think often of the writer Annie Dillard’s famous line “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives”. This means different things to different people, but when putting it in the context of creative work, the small acts that you take will sum up to great things. Take pleasure in the small moments of time you find for creativity and a fulfilling life as an artist will follow.
© Christopher M Buddle 2025
Nature's Reverie 