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.

Go Where You Shouldn't

A small town is a place where there's no place to go where you shouldn't. ~ Burt Bacharach

Come join me for a few sites from around town, taken on a sunny day or two in late April. Spring had just begun to emerge and so had the people. I hope you enjoy.


One April morning, it appeared as if there was fire glowing outside of my window. This stunning sunrise had the sky all ablaze.






A bit of a worn down home, in close walking distance from my place caught my eye for the textures and collection of items in the upstairs window. There appeared to be some Christmas ornaments along with a boarded up glass pane and a knotted curtain. The photo was taken at the end of March. On May 8, I immediately recognized the home in a news report of a kitchen fire which caused extensive damage to the home's interior. Thankfully, nobody was hurt.






Oblivious to troubles in the world, this little guy was having the time of his life swinging from a tree branch while his Dad watched over him and helped him along with a hefty push.






A Peterborough landmark, Quaker Oats first began operating here in 1902 but suffered a major fire just fourteen years later. In 1920, it was fully rebuilt into the structure you see in this photo. If the wind is blowing the right (or wrong) way, you can smell the sickly sweetness of flavoured oatmeal wafting over the east end of the city.






The catkins were just emerging on the weeping willow at the large lakeside patio of The Silver Bean in town. The café offers meals, snacks and drinks to enjoy out on their patio or dock. They're closed all winter but have just opened up for the season. In the distance, you can see the foot and train bridge which connects the west and east shores of Little Lake.






Here's a closeup of one of the beams on that bridge as it sports some of its ever-changing graffiti.






This sculpture which is situated in Millennium Park is called Esker. Depending on whose article you might read, it depicts 1) a mama wolf and her cub, 2) a sled guide dog staring down a wolf or 3) a regular canine puppy and its mother. The artists are Maryann Barkhouse and Michael Belmore and I'd assume they know the truth. Back in 2013, vandals did damage to the smaller figure when they removed it and threw it into the lake. The artists restored their work, and the pair of pooches were soon happily reunited.






This boulder is located near the Butterfly Garden - a children's memorial put in place by The Bereaved Parents of Ontario. Easter had arrived and these colourful offering were left by grieving parents.






Sitting on the rocks, by the swift waters of Little Lake, this lone guitarist was enjoying his music.






Have a quick listen to the guitar and the water.






I chatted with a young woman while we watched her brother head off along the walkway at the nearby lock. With the excessive rain which followed for days afterward, the walkway has now become completely submerged by the swift river current.






Only the very top of the rail is now visible.






Thousands of little minnows were dancing and darting in the water below.






This is the last we'll see of those tree roots for a while. The bottom three feet (at least) of its trunk are now under several feet of water.






On my way back home, I found myself amused by the collection of toys in this young man's hands. Perhaps they were inadvertently left behind by a younger boy's hands.

A Soft White Damn

The snow doesn't give a soft white damn whom it touches.

~ E.E. Cummings

There is no snow on the ground as I write this. In fact, it's been teetering between rain and freezing rain all morning. The following images were taken after February's big snowfall. Hopefully it was the last big one.


Stepping outside of my apartment, I can see that the parking lot and walkway have been shoveled. Not all of the roads and sidewalks were as clear though. Let's head out to the lake.






If those slingshot chairs, aptly named The Launch Pad were real, they might just be powerful enough to send you out into the open water.






A fresh snowfall makes it difficult to discern where the land ends and the lake begins. The tree does grow rather close to the water.





This walkway leads onto a large T-shaped dock. It's mostly covered in snow but you can still make out the outline.






You can see it a lot better from this angle. Just a few months ago, these guys were having the time of their lives fetching tennis balls thrown from the pier, into the water.






This was as far as I could get around the lake. The snow was too deep to traverse beyond this point.






In a different direction, this guy was accepting his fate of trudging through the snow.






He had several metres of frozen hose behind him, too.






Heading back toward home, this bright red truck amid all of the snowy white caught my eye.






The Little Library was wearing its snowcap. Nobody had visited since the recent storm.






This is the parking lot at the Peterborough Memorial Centre. It took a long time for those piles to melt. I do believe they're completely gone by now - more than a month after the snowfall.






A few days later, warming temperatures made for a quick melt. Bright, late afternoon sunshine made for saturated hues. And puddles offered some colourful reflections.






Walking into the lowering sun made for golden light.






The road that leads to home - where Netflix awaits.

So You Walk

How can you explain that you need to know that the trees are still there, and the hills and the sky? Anyone knows they are. How can you say it is time your pulse responded to another rhythm, the rhythm of the day and the season instead of the hour and the minute?

No, you cannot explain. So you walk. ~ Author Unknown

The following photos were taken during various walks throughout December and January. I hope you enjoy the stroll.


Daybreak brought some rich colour to the morning sky as seen from my apartment window. The vertical line is just a reflection from inside.






My feet first brought me down to the Otonabee River where the sunlight sparkled on the water.






There's a vague promise of spring in the daylight.






The view facing north from the lock.


And a bit of an idea of how quickly that water is rushing.






Not someplace I'd fancy losing hold of my camera.






Heading back along the riverbank, let's make our way through town and to Little Lake.






This sign in front of a driveway amused me.






You can see some open water in the distance but much of the lake was frozen over and snowed upon.






The empty docks await the return of boaters in late spring or early summer. That's when the city comes alive again.






Did you know that Batman is alive and well, and living in Peterborough?






Late in the afternoon, clouds roll in. A small break in their puffiness allows the sun to shine her golden charm upon the lake and shoreline - enhanced somewhat with Photoshop.

More photos coming up before too much longer.