Cathy holmes
Bio
Canadian family girl with a recently discovered love for writing. Other loves include animals and sports.
Stories (289/0)
The Colours We Share
Marisol sat patiently on her egg, waiting for her final hatchling to emerge. It was day 28, and this was her last of the season. Two of her brood had already hatched, but this little one was taking her own sweet time. Shortly after the white egg finally cracked its shell, the tiny black beak breaking through to free itself, a near-naked downy chick emerged. Marisol had birthed three eggs this time, but only Arie and her brother Mateo survived. Marisol and her mate Pablo took turns feeding and tending the chicks, teaching them how to survive and care for themselves in the pristine, unspoiled forest they called home.
By Cathy holmes2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - October 2021
The Agony and Ecstasy (but mostly Agony) of Being a Toronto Maple Leafs FanTop Story - October 2021
1967. 1967. 1967. 1967. Am I getting annoying yet? Imagine listening to that constantly from followers of rival teams when you’re a Toronto Maple Leafs fan. It was their favourite chirp, and we’ve heard it so often, it doesn’t even bother us. We’ve heard the best and the worst of insults for decades from haters, but the one thing they don’t realize is, nobody hates the Leafs more than their own fans.
By Cathy holmes3 years ago in Unbalanced
A Bluffer's Park Nightmare
Scarborough Bluffs has always been one of my favourite places to spend a day since I moved to Ontario 20 years ago. An ancient escarpment that runs 15 kilometres along the lake shore in Toronto's east end, it reaches the equivalent of 25 stories at its highest point. It has long been a sought-out destination for hikers, visitors and photographers looking to explore trails through wetlands, meadows and forests. The incredible scenic views from the top and beaches below make it the ideal destination for anyone looking for an escape from the concrete monolith of the city.
By Cathy holmes3 years ago in Horror
Rules of Human Servitude from Your Feline Overlords
The relationship between humans and felines has spanned millennia. Cats have been domesticated as far back as 7500 BC and were venerated and protected by the ancient Egyptians. Humans have tried, somewhat successfully, to tame the Felis Catus while being blissfully unaware that they were actually the ones being tamed. You do not “train a cat”; a cat trains you. At the behest of Her Highness, I have transcribed from “Rules of Human Servitude from Your Feline Overlords” as dictated by Abigail, Princess of the House of Holmes. Apparently, the text is a 4 volume section of the 5th-century penal code, penned by Sir Catalad and written into law by King Arthur. Personally, I think my cat made it up.
By Cathy holmes3 years ago in Petlife
The Broken Branch
It's a beautiful evening to sit here on the balcony reading my favourite book of short stories and think about nothing. The ash tree in front is providing just the right amount of shade to keep me comfortable. Soon the setting sun will pass over the tree, making it much too hot to stay out here, so I'll have to move inside. But I'll stay here as long as I can, thinking about nothing but my book and the sound of cicadas buzzing in the trees. As the sun disappears into the horizon, they'll soon quiet down their electric hum and be replaced by the chirping orchestra of crickets that reside across the creek. Where do cicadas go at night anyway, I wonder? Do they sleep in the trees? But they eat trees, right? I guess it wouldn't be the first time I saw some guy spend an evening slurping down sap and flexing for the ladies, only to end the night passed out in his own food. The thought makes me giggle.
By Cathy holmes3 years ago in Fiction
Unfrozen Memories
I still fondly remember my first attempt at ice skating. Gazing across the expanse of glistening ice through the fog of frozen breath, I waited impatiently as my Mom tied my skates. With an amount of confidence excessive for even the most exuberant four-year old, I KNEW I would be a bladed ballerina. In fact, I looked more like hungry, drunk penguin trying to navigate her way back to the ocean for a meal.
By Cathy holmes3 years ago in Fiction