…or howls, or yips, or whatever that sound was coming from deep within the woods today. Almost as soon as I stepped foot onto the trails in Mill Creek, I heard the coyote. It’s not an uncommon sound down there, but this one sounded urgent, even plaintive. Coyotes, I assume, have a variety of vocalizations at their disposal, but the one I hear most often is a version of what I heard today: a kind of hyena-like yipping, albeit not quite so loud, and stressed. I changed course and started following the sound, but after about ten minutes I lost hope of breaching the gap. The coyote was walking away from me as fast as I was walking toward it. So, I turned back. A minor diversion that could have been interesting.

I spent about a half an hour trying to convince myself to go for a walk before I actually put on my gear and hauled ass out the door. It’s grey and cold today, and my short walk to the Strathcona Farmer’s Market this morning was unpleasant; a brutal wind directed right at my face parts for the entire duration. However, it was worth the loss of the uppermost layers of my skin for the green peppers, which to my great delight, have returned to the stand of my favourite veggie procurer. Anyway, I was not particularly pumped about venturing outside again, but this time, I wore a hat, which helped. Other than the coyote, it was pretty uneventful. Got mauled by a large poodle in south Mill Creek, which was sort of fun. One of those really big poodles. The person was apologetic, but really, it was the most action I’ve had in a long time, so no harm.

Spotted a tiny, red hat on a branch in the woods near the pool. Either someone has a severe case of microcephaly (but is nevertheless rather jolly), or Mill Creek has elves. Maybe that’s what made coyote howl. Bagged himself an elf. I imagine it’s a pretty skimpy meal, more like an apéritif. Nothing else to report. White skies, white snow, none of the promised warmth. Still, better than sitting inside and feeling sorry for myself. If only I could howl like that coyote.

2:45PM/-9C (Saturday)

A fabulous, spectacular, gorgeous, sunny, life-saving, fat-busting, mood-lifting, gob-smackingly lovely walk. So needed, and yet so avoided, for reasons of frigidity, storminess, barfiness, and general miserableness. Fell once, but that was OK. Had to wear my hat and several layers of clothing, but that was OK too. The quantity and quality of snow suggests January, but the position of the brilliant sun is all March. In fact, when I looked over the Cloverdale Pedestrian Bridge I saw the unmistakable footprints of Mr and Mrs Goose, back for another year. I could have sworn I saw two geese flying in the sky a couple of weeks ago near Connor’s Hill, but I chalked it up to hyperthermia. Too soon, and  yet, here is the proof: two sets of goosefeet, like a double pearl necklace strung between the Cloverdale and the Low Level Bridges. Well, I suppose actually seeing them would be the proof. Last year, my first sighting was March 14th, so it’s gotta be them. My Louise McKinney Park geese. Come home.

Poor bastards.

I also saw a pileated woodpecker in the woods near Skunk Hollow, but it was too far away to get that ‘pileated ‘pecker thrill’ that comes with a close-up viewing of those strange birds.

Skunk Hollow was at the end of my walk. I started in Mill Creek, which was particularly pristine after yet another snow ‘episode’ yesterday. Colour variations in the landscape were almost non-existent, obliterated by the bright noon sun, the cloudless blue sky, and the sparkling white of the snow. It’s later in the afternoon when the sun is lower that the snow goes purple.

I hope that this is the start of a trend, both in the warmer temperatures, and a more consistent pattern of walking. Distance walking, not those short little jaunts down Saskatchewan Drive. Within ten minutes of being outside, I felt better. Perhaps not like a million bucks, but maybe a quarter mil. That’s good for now.

2:15PM/-14C

Well, not much to write about. Just a few walks this last week. Or is that two weeks? I’ve lost track, it’s been very, very cold, with the thermometer stuck at -20C (or worse.) The average temperature for this time of year is -2C. I am at a loss for words! My aphasia is due to the inexplicable nature of our rotten weather, which seems both unfair and punitive, as well as sloth-induced brain atrophy. Perhaps it’s more of the latter. I am at all times resigned to the fact that I don’t live in Costa Rica, nor would I want to, in spite of my desire for garden iguanas.

Enough whining.

Is that even possible?

On the bright side, it’s been bright (with the exception of today), and it stays that way until well after 6:00 pm. Light in the morning, too. Before I leave for work, the birds are up and yelling for fresh seed. I always oblige. Some mornings, like today for instance, the warm seeds steam in the frigid temperatures.

In defiance of all reason, I walked home today. Wore the Kommissar (my Russian great coat), wrapped my

warmest scarf around my neck and lower face parts, and pulled my hat down over my forehead, and I was still frozen. Especially the rectangle of exposed flesh surrounding my watering eyeballs. Really, was it worth it? Probably. As a public transportation user, but more importantly, as a devoted walker, taking the bus home at the end of the day just seems wrong. And there’s that sloth factor. I’ve had enough of it. I don’t want to hibernate anymore, and yet all signs point toward carbohydrates and sleep. Hence, the walk…straight through the drifts of Saskatchewan Drive. I feel so much better. Or at least I do now that I’ve had a hot, bubbly bath and a warm beverage.

Even through all my gear, and the howling winds, I could hear the birds singing their hearts out. As soon as I got home, I reloaded the bird feeder. Seems the least I could do…

5:20 pm/-22C

Sunrise: 7:20 am/Sunset: 6:12 pm