Fall and Winter Have Retired.

Who'd a thunk?

Not me certainly!

When I said " So long, adieu to you and you and you!",  and tore off the shackles that bound me to a career as an Economic Developer I really had no idea what would happen next, where I would go, what I would do, when I would know I had arrived at that magical place where retired people dwell, how I would manage, what would it be like....

So I had to just LET IT ALL GO. And the night I decided that that was the best plan, this happened:

And nothing was revealed. Well, not quite true. It was a beautiful autumn evening...a Tuesday night. And while we sat around the bonfire enjoying the full  golden moon, the lovely merlot wine, the soft evening breeze it hit me! I didn't have to go to work the next day, and I was accountable to absolutely no-one but me! And so I stayed up past midnight. 

And the next morning, I slept in past 9. And dreamed of a trip to Cape May, that wouldn't be a vacation at all. I didn't have to take a holiday from anything! I just had to go and enjoy the gorgeous ocean breezes, fabulous seafood, stunning scenery, and the birds. Oh, the birds!

And so I did!

Getting used to having no schedule whatsoever, other than a self-imposed one, took about 10 minutes. And then it became a huge release from stress, worry, and time constraints! My time had arrived, without me being aware that I had been waiting for it! 

All of a sudden, I realized that I could do anything I felt like - and I didn't have to wait until the weekend to see friends, go out for dinner, go rambling around, cook, clean or not clean...time had suddenly become my friend!

Hello!

Hello cooking classes. Hello mid-week birding excursions. Hello I don't think I feel like doing anything today. Hello Netflix binge. Hello  afternoon yoga classes. 

Hello life!

Autumn morphed into winter, and even our white world became something to celebrate. Previously there had always been those moments of frustration - have to clear snow off the car, scrape the windshield, put on coats, mitts, boots, scarves moments - just to simply leave the yard. No more!

I can stay in with a book. Or not. I can, and did, go skating and had the most memorable skate of my life one gorgeous sunny day in January when water turned to ice and the magic happened.

It wasn't just one day, either. There was the day when we found not one, not two, but THREE Snowy Owls as we were taking a leisurely afternoon drive around the Valley.

There was the morning when I looked out the window, and saw deer in the yard, and then later, along the road, in the fields, and into the woods...deer here, deer there, oh deer!

There were days of wonder. Days of sleep. Moments of laughter. Time with friends. Time with family. Day dreams. Incredible scenes.

And ever so slowly, my world began to shift. It was - and is - a better place to be. And softly, winter dropped her coat, and it became easier to breathe. And signs of Spring coming appeared. 

The days got longer. And the sun warmed. 

And Spring arrived.

And so did I.

Diamonds in the Rough

We all have our reasons why.

Why we like  red instead of blue, sweet instead of sour, tuba instead of bagpipes.  Perhaps it's genetically coded in and we have no one to blame but our forefathers and mothers who were either hunters or gatherers

back when it all began.

I'm pretty sure I'm from the gathering clan.

There's a body of evidence that would seem to indicate that this is true.

 I like nuts.

And berries.

Salads I sometimes crave.

Coleslaw? Yum.

And tender green shoots in spring? Heaven.

I am NOT a hunter.

Although some of the clan have tried on occaision to convert me.

Once I actually went hunting for partridge with two of the members of the  Hunting Clan. They put a shotgun in my hands, showed me how to load a shell in it, aim, and fire. Then left me standing amidst a bramble of raspberry canes

and told me to shoot when they flushed out a bird.

So, there I was licking raspberry juice off my fingers, admiring all the butterflies flitting about when this gray fluffy bird came streaking 

right over my head!

I ducked and yelled, dropped the gun which fired off into the bushes, hopefully not hitting anything, and sat down and started shaking and babbling away,

apologizing profoundly to all creatures great and small for even contemplating shooting one of them.

Never again.

That the was the moment when I knew I was a gatherer.

But it's no a simple thing. There's much more to being a gatherer than just picking berries and eating candied pralines.

Over the years, I have come to realize that it impacts my lifestyle and the choices I make in dozens of subtle, and some not so subtle, ways.

I live on a beach. Beside a river.

This river abounds with wildlife -both the hunting and the gathering kind.

I 've seen bear, fox, deer, mink, beaver, porcupine, raccoon, rabbit, otter, mouse and moose; fish, frogs, snakes, newts, turtles and lizards.

Lots of birds and bugs and butterflies.

And I've come to realize that this beach is their home as much,

if not much more than, it is mine.

My neighbours, who only live here in the summer think I'm a little

wonky -or maybe a lot wonky. I love the reeds in front of our place.

It's not rocket science to figure out that this is an important part of the natural life around here. Why some would go so far as to recognize that it's Habitat.

And that it should be left alone.

My neighbour's disagree. They call it weeds, and every Sunday morning in the summer, they can be seen on the beach with their rakes, their ATV's and their rusty bedsprings, dragging through the weeds in front of their places.

They prefer desertscape to riparian area.

They have offered numerous times to kill the weeds out front of our place.

I have told them numerous times that those reeds and grasses serve a very special  function, providing food sources for some, cover for others, and protecting the entire beach from erosian. Meh!

They don't care.

Their rough patch is my diamond mine.

And so we have agreed to disagree.

And when they mention in passing that there doesn't seem to be as many swallows or butterflies as before, I just look at them, then invite them over

to our place to watch the river flow.

Little Goosey Gander

Little Goosey Gander

Wither do you wander?

Upstairs

Downstairs

In the master's chamber.

(Who dreamt up that little ditty? What could it possibly mean?)

I have no idea what it means! But I do know that over the years, given all the crap and oil and crap and oil that has been placed in the way of all creatures great and small, I have developed a profound respect for any thing with wings who manages to fly by me!

Welcome back  Canada Goose, my  personal harbinger of Spring.

Honkkkk...honkk...hey You! Featherbrain? You listenin' to me?

yes'm.

for more views of the skies around this world, check out
http:www.skyley.blogspot.com

Good-bye, Hello

Good-bye, 2009...
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way." ~ Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities.
Hello, 2010...

It's going to be a sunglasses kind of day here

on the shores of the mighty Ottawa River.

You can see  more of the world around you at http://skyley.blogspot.com/

It's Just Another Day

24 hours. Nothing special planned. No where to go, no one to see, nothing that has to get done. A take it as it comes kind of day. And so I did.
Busloads of tourists come to our area every year to see the fall colours. The tour operators tag the tours with catchy names like "The Flaming Leaf" or "Autumn Rhapsody". We call them a sure sign that winter's on its way.



















As I was taking the shot of the leaves, I could hear a little chirping. Saw a quick flit out of the corner of my eye and swung the camera in that direction, hoping to capture the source of the commotion. Ah Ha! A little Yellow Rumped Warbler...so cute. Often called "Butter Bum" and you can see why.

















This is a shot of the Ottawa River from the bridge that links Ontario and Quebec. These rapids were used as a "Toll Gate" by the Algonquin back in the days when the fur trade and les voyageurs were combing this area, seeking pelts and prospecting for tall pines for masts for her majesty's ships back in England. The Algonquin wouldn't let them use the portages on either side of the rapids until they paid with tools, utensils, beads, or whatever the hot commodity was in favour that season.





















The sky on Tuesday evening, through the living room window. Raining in Greenwood. Funny thing about living on the river, in the Ottawa Valley. There are hills to the north and south of us (hence, valley) and the weather will often circle around us. It was the other side's turn to get wet.














This morning, the view from the window is completely different. Large flocks of Canada Geese rest in our bay overnight, lulling us to sleep with their chatter, and waking us up with the same...only more insistent and considerably louder.



















Just after I took the shot the geese from the window, the sun burst through the clouds...day break. And that's the past 24 hours at home in the Valley. Now on to the next.

It's not raining?

http://showyourworld.blogspot.com/
For the first time in over 5 days, it isn't raining. Even the clouds aren't sure what to do next.


Well, this cumulated fella looks like he's finally blown it...

and this nebulous dirvish is gonna kiss the moon goodbye...

and now it's officially a red sky at night...sailor's delight. Hello world, nice to see you again!

Fowl Morning

I usually stumble out of bed every morning around 6:30 am, and head to the kitchen to put the coffee on (organic, fair trade of course). This is the view that greeted me on Tuesday.

The feathered flotilla had arrived! Where we live on the Ottawa River, there’s a fairly shallow bay, Bellows Bay -and it’s a local birding hotspot for waterfowl. Not sure why it’s called Bellows Bay though – perhaps after the cows that pasture beside it?
But I digress. It was a spectacular sight…all these geese swimming on water so calm they were making little goose wakes.

There’s a reason I’m often a few minutes late for work! I’d much rather sit and sip my coffee and just take it all in.! And you never know what else will show up…like this pair of Wood Ducks. In my mind, the most beautiful ducks in the world! Right in front of me, no less! Look! Duck Duck Goose for real!

There’s really no appropriate place for them to nest on our beach – some big old trees yes, but some big old dogs and some big old boats …and if they choose the tree they’re scoping out this morning, by the end of the month they’ll be fifty feet from water, not 10 as it is right now with spring run-off.
The intrepid little pair of fancy ducks just marched right out of the water, and up the slope to check out the pine tree. Man! I need a better camera!

Don’t think they like the neighbourhood, sadly. Not sure that the phoebe likes the purple martin house either. I know! It needs a lick of paint – it’s on John’s honey-do list….right after plant the garden, fix the porch ceiling and screens, build new deck, lay flooring in the basement, new ceiling there too, and paint the family room area. So, uhm, might get done soon… or it might not.

Oh oh, look at the time! I’m going to be late again.
Dang! Memo to self. Find a clone.

Waterblogged

The mighty Ottawa River is about to be declared a Canadian Heritage River on National Rivers' Day, June 14th, 2009. Without this magnificent river (that has the 3rd largest volume of water in North America) Samuel de Champlain might never have made his way west, nor lost his Astrolabe near Cobden, Ontario. The fur trade may not have opened the routes between England and the New World, the War of 1812 might never have... etcetera, etcetera and blah! de blah.
It all happened...this is not a history lesson. ( or at least, not intentionally).
And here I am today. On the banks of what I consider to be the most fabulous river I've had the pleasure of living beside. But there is a wee , er we, problem. It's rising today. Beyond what we have seen in the past 15 years we've been here. Thirty feet of reliable, beautiful sandy beach? Gone. The photo of our place taken a few weeks ago, shows a patio and a few steps...taken from further out on the beach. Today? April 27th? the water is lapping at the patio. Bonfire pit? See the log sticking up out of the water? No fires any time soon.
This afternoon was absolutely amazing. When I arrived home from work...winds from the south, gusting to 50 kph, and it felt like I was on the beach...in Maine, or Cuba...wherever there's an ocean...on a cheerfully warm day. Except. I wasn't. I'm here in the "valley" and it's April 27th and its + 27 degrees C. And that's just not ...right
I meant this to be quirky and funny, but really? As they say "WTF"?

THAT being said, the image to your left is of a root system, presumably from the oak trees about 200 feet away, or the pines which are closer. In either case, the water has wiped away the sandy protection, left the roots exposed, and well cleansed. This isn't the first time they have been exposed, and won't be the last.
I vacillate between trying to be relentlessly cheerful (which I am actually) and a doom'n'gloomer...I love the drama that the river is providing six feet away, and I hope that everything's gonna be alright. Really. Seriously. OK.

Spring Dirt

We live on the Ottawa River and walking into our home is kind of like being aboard a ship – because as you enter you look straight through a wall of glass to water and sky. After six months of moody gray skies and white frozen river, to see blue movement above and below again is wonderful! This morning I wandered in to the kitchen and the whole sky was washed with pink. There were flocks of geese all over the bay, and a loon calling directly in front. Wow is such an inadequate word except when it really does describe the view and the feeling.
Spring is an incredible time of year – my favourite actually. I love that the whole earth seems pregnant with possibility. Birds chasing each other round the yard, otter’s antics on the river, even sleepy dumb flies waking up and trying to figure out how to avoid a swat. Not that I like house flies, but that first warm day that brings them out? That’sa nice.

I love the smell of the damp earth, the ice receding, the snow melting – the changes that are constant and make each spring day fresh and new.
Way back in grade four science I remember learning about humus. Not the food (which I just reconfirmed is spelled with two ems, thank you dictionary) but the decomposing soil variety that you shouldn’t eat unless you like worms. What I love about humus is its smell. It may be decaying plant material but it has a richness about it that evokes ghostly memories of winter, fall and summer and the feet that walked upon it. It’s all so ripe and fertile! And I only seem to smell it on lovely spring days like today, when the sun has warmth, and everyone you see is strolling, trying to prolong the getting there for a change.
These are the days to linger and think dirty thoughts.