Winter's Foliage

Those of you who follow such things will have noticed that there was no POTW post again, yesterday. That's the bad news. The good news is that I should have one for you, next week and it will probably be supersized.

For now, here are a few simple photos and quotes. I hope you enjoy them. I'll be by to visit your blogs before too much longer.

"The poetry of the earth is never dead." ~ John Keats

“I remember a hundred lovely lakes, and recall the fragrant breath of pine and fir and cedar and poplar trees. The trail has strung upon it, as upon a thread of silk, opalescent dawns and saffron sunsets.” ~ Hamlin Garland

"If winter comes, can spring be far behind?" ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

"Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity; so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand." ~ Henry David Thoreau

"Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished." ~ Lao Tzu

“The shadows now so long do grow, That brambles like tall cedars show, Molehills seem mountains, and the ant Appears a monstrous elephant.” ~ Charles Cotton

“Cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education.” ~ Mark Twain

Walking in the Sun (and the Dark)

As nice as it would be, we can't spend all of our time up at the cottage. Sometimes I just have to settle for the everyday images of Frank's and my own home surroundings. Truthfully, I'm not settling at all. There's beauty to be found everywhere I look. Please join me on a walk or two, and I'll show some of the sites I've seen over the last month or so. Please remember to click each image to enlarge.




On a morning walk around my pond, I was watching other creatures when a mallard skidded to a stop in front of me. You can tell that he'd been moulting, since the usually-prominent green head feathers are scarcely visible. (please click to enlarge)




A couple of weeks later you can see the emerald touches on his head. It won't be long before their colouring is back to normal. This drake struggles to remove a feather from his beak. (please click to enlarge)





A young robin struts happily across the back of a bench. To him, summer might have seemed never-ending. (please click to enlarge)




One of Frank's neighbours has planted raspberry and blackberry bushes in the field across from his house and they're just coming into season now. We help ourselves to a few of them (with his permission) each afternoon on our way to the cedar grove and creek. (please click to enlarge)




Along the path in the field, there are wild fruit trees. Early in August, we discovered that a nest had been built upon the branches of one of them. On one of our walks, we happened upon this *Eastern Kingbird sitting on her eggs.
*Thank you to Randy Emmit in the comments below for correctly identifying this bird as an Eastern Kingbird and not the Mockingbird which I first believed it to be. (please click to enlarge)




A couple of weeks later, the mother was absent from her nest but perched on a nearby tree. She watched as my camera lens peered up at the nest. If you enlarge this photo, you'll see two downy nestlings peering right back at me, over the edge of the nest. (please click to enlarge)




Shortly afterward, this adult flew to a nearby branch with food in its mouth. It waited until I moved away from the babies before bringing the insect to them for feeding time. This is probably the father, as both parents are responsible for feedings. We watched for a bit them moved on. (please click to enlarge)




Another fruit tree along the edge of the creek. Although somewhat weighted down by apples, the tree is actually growing out from the edge of the shoreline. Considering the rapid erosion rate, I wonder how long it will be until that tree is lost to a windy, rainy day. (please click to enlarge)



Further along the shore, a sandpiper explores a floating log. (please click to enlarge)




We don't visit the cedar grove too often in the summer because of overgrowth and mosquitoes. Mostly the latter. But we did wander around and beneath its magnificent trees on this day. It's a lovely area filled with magic and beauty. Has anyone seen where Benny went? (please click to enlarge)




Oh, here he comes tearing out of the overgrowth like his tail is on fire. (please click to enlarge)




True to his style, he's hoping we'll throw a stick into the creek so he can chase after it. Maybe next time, Ben. (please click to enlarge)




Leaving the grove and creek behind us, the late afternoon sunlight breathes colour and life into the aging wildflowers of the field. If you look closely you'll see Queen Anne's Lace, Chicory, Goldenrod, Asters, Snapdragons and a few leaves changing colour. (please click to enlarge)




One final photo taken at night, at what Frank calls his UFO spot. You can't see them, but people were salmon fishing in the dark. Only the stars up above and the occasional lantern lit their way. (please click to enlarge)

Looks like this day is over. Thanks for joining me on my walk.

This is a scheduled post. Despite my opening line in this post, if all has worked out as planned, we're about to head up to the cottage one more time. The week promises to be wet, cold and unpleasant - not likely to provide photo opportunities. But you never know. Please stay tuned and I'll be back next weekend to reply to comments and try to catch up on your blogs.

The Great Outdoors (Summer Shorts 2)

Summer is too lovely a time not to spend outdoors. Like last post, here are just a few photos taken over the past week or two.. and not a whole lot more. Please remember to click on each photo to enlarge.


With a car tire as a back drop, these yellow flowers seem to glow in the sunlight.



Tiger Lilies will soon bloom - but not yet.



These wispy, purple wildflowers however, are in full bloom.




The path back home. Reluctantly leaving the creekside cedar grove.



How long do you figure before summer's growth covers up this large branch?



A peek at the water fountain in Frank's back yard, though the lattice fence.



A tiny moth on the netting of the backyard tent. We sit there some evenings enjoying nature but avoiding mosquitoes. Photographed from the inside of the tent. The moth is on the outside.

Back soon with more Summer Shorts.

A Sun Track Mind

It's almost spring in Southern Ontario. This means that in the past week we've had temperatures ranging from -20C (-4F) up to a lovely high of 16C (61F) on Friday. We've experienced rain, snow, quick thaws, floods and glorious, golden sunshine. We've also welcomed a revisit from Daylight Saving Time.

Before too long, the snow and ice will be completely gone and signs of new growth will be apparent. Despite a return to colder temperatures this week, it's encouraging to be on this precipice between winter and spring.

Last week, I took one of my semi-regular trips to visit Frank at his neck of the woods. It takes me three hours by bus and train, but it's a relaxing trip as long as I have a good book to read, and I usually do. My camera is typically on my lap throughout the trip, just in case something catches my eye.




Not far from my departure point, the tracks cross the Credit River. In summer, its waters are dotted with boats and wind surfers, but throughout the winter, its icy surface takes on many patterns, whether snow-covered or in semi-thaw conditions. (please click to enlarge)




As we pull out of Toronto's Union Station, a peek through the window across the aisle allows me to capture a shot of the St. Lawrence Market. (please click to enlarge)




The tracks hug the shoreline of Lake Ontario for much of the trip. (please click to enlarge)




The railroad tracks are shared by both commuter trains and cross-country railroads. The green GO Transit car where I sit, is reflected in the window of the VIA Rail train as it zooms by. (please click to enlarge)




Once I've settled in at Frank's place, the excitement begins. We'll usually grab some lunch, get a bit of shopping done, play a game of cribbage and before you know it, Frank is ready for a nap. Oh yes, I just exhaust him! Once he awakens, Benny is ready for his late afternoon walk. It's my favourite time of day, this time of year because the sunlight offers beautiful visuals like this gateway to the magical south cedar grove. (please click to enlarge)




At this bend in the creek, a beautiful tree bows to meet the rushing, swirling waters below. The frigid air weaves lacy patches of ice close to the water's surface. (please click to enlarge)




A closer look at the ice-covered twigs. (please click to enlarge)




This tree has a tiny wooden ledge nailed into it. It's one of the many spots where Frank leaves a peanut for the squirrels throughout the winter. One day, finding himself without a supply of peanuts, he added a nickel instead. This of course was left unappreciated and untouched by the woodland critters. Sometime after that, just for fun, I added a dime to his coin but it disappeared shortly afterward. The snow has recently thawed considerably, and as we approached the tree, I asked Frank if he'd ever found the dime on the ground nearby. As I asked, I looked down and saw it shining back up at me. It's now repositioned on the ledge beside the nickel. (please click to enlarge)




I've photographed this grove of cedars before, but I find it irresistible when the golden sunlight hits it just so. (please click to enlarge)




Along the shoreline, the golden tree trunks shimmer in the icy waters of the creek below. (please click to enlarge)




On our way back out of the grove, the sun glows from behind these kissing cedars. (please click to enlarge)




Just outside of the grove, the full setting sun brightens the path ahead of us, transforming icy patches into gold. (please click to enlarge)

In a few days, I'll post some photos of the results of last month's flood which carried great chunks of ice out over the morning walking path.

Zentonym©

Zentonym©: [zen-tuh-nim] noun: Something which disturbs the Zen-like quality of ones surroundings, by emitting a loud noise or attitude, or by displaying a cool, unfriendly demeanor. ~ The Smitten Image's Suburban Dictionary.

There are a few areas around and about my place and Frank's where we like to walk. As you know by the many photos I've shared, they're picturesque areas - all of which include a body of water of some sort. It's impossible to wander through these paths and shorelines and not be struck with the beauty of our surroundings. Every season brings a splendour of its own.

Generally, we encounter other walkers, many of whom have one or more dogs with them. Benny is a friendly pup and would like nothing more than to sniff and be sniffed by another canine. There's a bonus in it for him if the pet-owner also shows him some affection. Most people find it impossible to resist a happy, bouncy little dog running at top speed to greet them. Many of them know Benny by name, and will also oblige Frank and me with a bit of passing conversation when we catch up to Benny.

Recently, at one of our usual locations, two youngish women have begun taking daily walks along the path. We usually meet them head-on at the beginning of their quick-paced walk, their heads tilted downward, yet toward one another in loud, steady, animated conversation. The unusual, and somewhat off-putting nature of their activity, is that they don't look up. Ever. They do not appear to notice their surroundings, nature's activity or other people on the paths. They seem totally oblivious to the beauty of their environs, and they're missing out on a lot.

One lovely morning, before this wintry cold settled in, Frank was alone with Benny as they strolled down the path between a pond and the creek. Similar to the day when this photo was taken, the wonderful Great Blue Heron graced these women with its presence, as it ambled majestically across the path directly in front of them. The women never broke stride, never looked up and never knew what an incredible gift of nature they had just ignored. How important can your daily non-stop conversation be, not to notice such a beautiful creature walk right in front of you?

Between Frank and me, these women have encountered one or the both of us and Benny with some degree of regularity. Their eyes flicker upward only briefly - enough to avoid bumping into us. Benny does his usual "look how cute I am!" scamper and hop as he runs up to them and... nothing. It's as if a dead leaf blew past them. One morning, I decided to greet them despite the lack of eye contact. "Good morning!" In unison, they responded with a "gmng." Their eyes never left the pavement and their conversation scarcely skipped a beat. I thought I should try harder next time.

Last week, our paths were covered with a few centimeters of snow. It was the first accumulation this year and Frank and I trudged along trying to maintain our upright status, while Benny was all charged up and raring to go. He ran off ahead of us stopping only to bury his nose occasionally, eat some snow and run back toward us to encourage us along. The women were finishing their walk and approached us as we began our own. I didn't wait for eye-contact, which I knew by now was not forthcoming. This time I simply said "Good morning" and when I got my "gmng" in return, I pressed on with "It sure is a beautiful one, eh?" Again, I saw one set of eyes glance not even toward me, but upward, as if noticing the weather for the first time. One of them grunted with a mild, feigned enthusiasm "yeah." And that was it. The other one pressed the resume button on their mechanical conversation, and they tuned out the rest of the world once again.

The very next morning, I stopped briefly, but often to take some shots since the snow-covered trees looked quite lovely. This time we could hear them approaching loudly from behind. You'd think by now they'd acknowledge the people they encounter daily, but their steady conversation - important and busy, cut through the tranquility of the day like an approaching siren. They were quite far behind me, and I stood with my back to them, camera poised to take a shot of the cedar-lined path - the breeze creating a mini snowfall in front of me.

Through the years, I can't guess how many times I've stopped or changed my route slightly to allow a photographer to get the shot he or she is after. I'd say there were at least as many times when others have extended that same courtesy to me. I'm not suggesting that these women intentionally ignored my attempt to get a shot. I doubt they would be that rude if they had noticed, but they didn't. Without so much as a pause, or a "good morning" they walked right around me, and into the shot. To add to our growing distaste for the pair, Benny gleefully trotted alongside them for a greeting. One of them must have twitched her eye slightly because she saw him approach with his usual excited, tail-wagging bounce. This is when we heard her utter her first voluntary words to anyone other than her walking partner. "Get Down!"

Frank dislikes their presence because they mess with the quiet, Zen-like surroundings which are otherwise so soothing and relaxing. We are calmed by the incredible species of birds we see each day, and by the sound of the water which trips and bubbles over rocks as it makes its way out to the lake. Throughout summer there are numerous flowers which add brilliant colours to the the sunny fields, and the trees in the nearby cedar groves share their undeniable magic - whether dotted by emerging ferns, accented by the hues of autumn or covered in a blanket of snow. A living being can not walk these paths and off-paths without feeling the wonder which surrounds them. I have to question why this is all invisible to these women. What makes them adhere to the paved path, unable to look outward from the tiny space of their own conversation? Why can't they feel some sense of harmony with nature - the air, water and land to which we're all connected?

I do realize that despite my feeble attempts, I can't change how others behave, so I know that I am simply going to have to refuse to allow it to bother me. It's truly their loss. They're young. Maybe someday, they'll open their eyes and have a good look around them. Perhaps they just need a camera or a dog, or a walk off-path, into the magic of the cedars.


Below are some photos which were taken on our walks last week.

You know it's winter when apples no longer float on the pond, but sit upon its frozen surface. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)




The entrance to the pathway which we take on our morning walks is lined with cedars. The trees offer shade in summer and protection from the cold winds of winter. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)



The breeze stirs the freshly fallen snow, and creates a mini flurry of snowflakes - best seen at a larger image size. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)



Leaving the paved path behind, we broke through fresh snow to follow the creek. (please click to enlarge photo)



Last winter, Frank spread birdseed at various points during our morning walks. As he cleared the snow from specific logs and rocks, Benny would transform into manic mode, biting and eating the freshly-swept snow. With this new dusting, it was evident that he hadn't forgotten that routine. Here he is, with his snow-covered face, waiting for Frank to clear the snow. Maybe next time, Benny. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)




The sun filters through a patch of snow-laden brush. A tree log might be home to a few small, woodland animals. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)




A small cluster of snow-covered red berries stands out among the otherwise barren branches. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)



Just before dusk, our afternoon walk takes us to another part of the field, where the south cedar grove awaits us. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)



The sky beyond the creek reflects the vibrant hues of the setting sun behind us. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)



Inside the grove, this cedar balances the fiery sun in the crook of her elbow. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)



Exiting the grove, a beautiful sunset guides our way home. (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)




How can the beauty of this day not touch even those in their state of Zentonym©? (please click once, and then again to enlarge photo.)