Water Flows

Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.

~ Margaret Atwood

Most of these photos are from a bit earlier in the spring. I am pretty far behind as far as both posting and visiting go. There are lots of photos still in my camera and about which I'm nearly ready to blog. Time, however, has a way of getting in the way. So for now, there's this. I hope you enjoy.


A lot of this..






... and not very much of this...






... has made for a significant amount of this.






The flooding has receded greatly over the past week or so but this is what the patio at the lakeside Holiday Inn looked like just a couple of weeks back.






This footpath, which appears to end here ordinarily takes you all the way to that opposite shore with plenty of grassy area to the right - when it's not hidden under water.






The path is located between the mooring docks and these amazing water tulips.






This is the sign on a nearby street which tells you that you're approaching a dead end. In this case, it was just a little too late.






Not everything suffered from the rain. It provided much needed hydration for trees in bloom.






Flowers everywhere were at their finest. These tulips in a pop bottle caught my eye.






The catkins of the weeping willow soon gave way to full, sweeping boughs.






And the virginal green of spring was everywhere.






I hope your spring is blooming beautifully!

More photos coming up before too much longer.

Here, There and Back Again

I have a few miscellaneous photos taken somewhere, sometime in the past few weeks. I hope you enjoy.

Benny is here to greet you on this mini tour.

First stop: The pond in our neighbourhood park. It was one of those days when the sun was playing hide and seek behind the gathering, gray clouds. At some point, I looked down into the water and noticed the gray reflection of trees and hazy sunlight.

These weeping willow catkins are suspended over the water from sweeping boughs.

This is somewhere on the northern shores of Lake Ontario. Dusty, blue-green paint - chipped, flaked and weathered by the sun. It once covered this row boat from bow to stern.

Back home again, I missed the shot of him hopping around and pecking for worms but I got the unexpected bonus of this robin taking off.

A picnic table in the park. Somebody left their craft scissors behind.

This completes our tour. I hope you enjoyed the ride.

More photos in a few days.

And Speaking of..

Have you ever had Fiddleheads? They're the top, curly, yet unfurled fronds of the Ostrich fern which when snipped and simmered make a delicious side dish - slightly similar to asparagus in flavour and texture.


Here's what you do. Break the heads off of numerous plants, leaving at least ten times as many to continue growing.

Rinse them very well and microwave them in a bit of water for a few minutes. Two large handfuls should take about four minutes on high. While those are cooking, heat some olive oil in a pan and add green onions, mushrooms and freshly-ground pepper.

By the time the microwave beeps, you can drain the fiddleheads and add them to the pan on medium heat. Add a clove or two of minced garlic and simmer until the moisture evaporates.

Add a splash of white wine (or lemon juice if you prefer) and cook long enough to burn off most, but not all of the wine. Transfer them to a serving dish and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese and more fresh pepper. Yum!

Note: Not all ferns are edible. Fiddleheads come from the commonly-grown (around here, anyway) Ostrich ferns. You can read more about it here.

And speaking of Fiddleheads, here are some happy ferns which survived the snip this year.



Weeping willow catkins have almost a worm-like appearance when they fall from the trees in early spring. Here they cluster around a small log in the pond below. I wonder if they look like prey to some birds or fish.




And speaking of which, a sharp-eyed gull scans the water in search of its next meal.



And speaking of sharp eyes, what do yours see in this piece of weathered tree?





This is a photo I repeat often. I can't resist snapping shots of this part of my local pond in most seasons, but especially in spring. I just love the way this tree's branch sweeps out over the water, its gnarly roots holding fast to the sloped shore.




And speaking of gnarled wood, this beautiful piece of tree has been battered and beaten by the elements and turned into one gnarly structure.




There's a lot of work going on in my local park. They've dug up all the paths and are widening them to create a bicycle path and walking path. They're also adding 48 lights along the way, which will probably turn the area into a very well-lit park at night.

I'm not so keen on that idea. Sure, it's safer for walking at night but I fear it will become less nature-friendly as it might deter some of the animals which like to nest along the shores of the pond, and those who scavenge for food at night. I thought this place was pretty good the way it was. It's difficult to balance human wishes with nature's needs but I don't think that the creatures are the city's first concern.


And speaking of creatures, here's Benny challenging you to a game of "Just Try To Snatch This Ball." Who do you think would win this match?