I think I hurt myself today. Walked for more than two hours in the river valley. Making up for lost time, I suppose. Walked Eddie for about a half hour in Rossdale this morning, and when he was too cold to continue, I dumped him back home and took off for Louise McKinney. And then Mill Creek. My knee was still a little pooched from yesterday (I was literally carrying a vacuum on my back…long story), and it was throbbing on the downhills, but I was really keen on visiting my old haunts. Silly really…it barely feels like I’ve been away once I’m in the river valley, and yet when I’m riding the LRT home to my other place in south Edmonton, it feels like a million years ago.

Mill Creek was festooned with wooden luminaria and paper lights for the Winter Light Festival this weekend. Didn’t attend…maybe next year, but it must have been beautiful. Other than that, a lovely, overcast walk in the woods. By hour two, the sun came out, but I spent most of my walk in the dim light of midwinter. Even the dogs were washed out. It was light-coloured dog day in the ravine. Lots of labs and retrievers, all of them of the blonde persuasion. Funny how that happens sometimes. After four months of walking with Maggie, it was strange to be dogless on the trails, but there were plenty of fondles and licks to go around.

1:30PM/0C

I’m back baby! Or…I’m back for two weeks, now a little more than one week. Walking to and from work in the river valley, and looking forward to a couple of marathon walks in the woods this weekend. Probably won’t take the whippet on the longer walks, simply because his heart condition, although managed, makes me a little fearful of running him too vigorously. Not that I run, but the point is I don’t know CPR, especially on a dog with a snout as long as an anteater’s.

Being back in a walkable neighbourhood is fantastic. It’s still dark in the morning, so I can’t hit my usual trails, but I know the area well, and there are many alternatives to the secluded, wooded areas in and around the river valley. Yeah, these routes are alongside traffic and lights (and therefore theoretically safe), but it’s given me a chance to catch up on my Bugle podcasts.

Hope the sun comes out this weekend. Although I’ve been here since Sunday evening, my walks have either been in the pitch black dawn or at twilight.

6:29PM/0C

Walked through my old neighbourhood yesterday. Nothing much has changed, but I was chuffed to see all the magpies. I don’t think they like the ‘burbs. I keep putting peanuts out on the deck, and it takes days for them to disappear, if the squirrels don’t get there first. When I lived in Old Strathcona/Mill Creek, I would be attacked as soon as I opened a bag of nuts. Maybe ‘attacked’ is not quite the word, but I could hear the communiques go out as soon as the whiff of nut hit the air, and between the blue jays and the magpies, the peanuts would be gone in 15 minutes.

I miss that.

Anyway, walking down 99 Street in the direction of Rossdale, I was suprised to see how little things have changed, in spite of seven months of construction. The path is wider, and has a cement abutment along the edge, which is nice but not particularly attractive. I used to feel as if I was walking in traffic, especially when snow and mud obscured the demarkation between sidewalk and street. There also appears to be some other sort of barrier in a half-finished state along the west side of the path. Just cement block and rebar at the moment. It used to be trees, and a steep drop into the ravine, which is still there but when the snow melts in the spring, a wall is going up. Or so it appears. Once I veered off into the woods, the ‘transformation’ ended. Same old, same old. Beautiful, in other words. Walked in twilight along the trail to Rossdale. The two week whippet-sitting gig continues…

12:11PM/2C

Beautiful, beautiful. The white snow, the blue sky, and most importantly, the balmy temperature. Actually, the blue sky is the most important thing, but all three together makes for a spectacular walk. Went the Westbrook route, which is initially kinda boring, but after 15 minutes of snow-covered mansions, Whitemud Creek suddenly opens up. Love this part of the ravine. The path is high above the green snail of the creek that runs (in the summer) so far below the ridge it’s almost invisible. At certain points, the trail offers great views of Whitemud Creek, with lookouts and benches. But…other than the trilling waxwings, the ravine was largely emptied of fellow walkers, so Maggie was off-leash and in dog heaven. The 10cm of snow this last week has made the trails soft and much safer. Tried to take a picture of her snow-dappled snout, but I’m too slow and she’s too distracted.

Today was the reward for last week, which was horribly cold. Felt like opening a vein…just for the warmth. I think. It is also the last time I will walk Maggie until early February. For two weeks I’ll be dog-sitting Eddie, a mentally-challenged whippet. The great news is that I’ll be back in my old neighbourhood, and by neighbourhood I mean Mill Creek Ravine. It feels like I’ve been gone for years, not four months…

2:18PM/-2C

Thought I’d take the dog out this morning, as the weather prognosticators are suggesting that it might be rather inclement for the next week, starting this afternoon. If by inclement, they mean ‘ugly’ then it’s already started. The older I get, the more I hate cloudy days. Storms blowing in on bruised cummulonibi are thrilling. A dark and brooding heaven pleases me; a featureless sky emptied of colour does not. There have been many times when I’ve walked in the woods under a sheet of white and felt its soothing, strangely intimate effect; the landscape simplified to a few points of interest instead of the usual array of sensual distractions. I am focused, and mindful of my surroundings in a way that’s impossible on a ‘louder’ day. Most of the time though, an overcast sky feels oppressive, as if the sun hasn’t been out for days when in fact it may have shone brightly just the day before. It sucks the blue right out of my memory.

In any case, in spite of the blank sheet of paper impersonating the sky, Maggie and I slid our way down to the power line and into the ravine. We met Rusty, one of Maggie’s friends, a beautiful Nova Scotia Duck Toller. They had a little play, and then the little orange dog tried to hump Maggie, so we carried on with our walk. (Speaking of being focused.) Usually at some point during a walk on a cold day, I’ll warm up, but I felt cold for the entire hour. Maybe I wasn’t exerting myself enough, with most of my energy being diverted to staying upright, but I think the dreary landscape kept my internal furnace from firing, draining it of fuel. I’ll be happy if it does snow, as forecast. The grey patchwork of old, hard ice is an ugly thing to behold on cold, January day. A little softening would be welcome.

-4C/11:30AM

Another beautiful day. Maggie and I carried on longer than originally intended, and half way through I wished I’d worn a lighter coat. Or no coat at all. Walked up to the muskrat pond along the power line, although we failed to lure any muskrats from their swampy dens. The pond is frozen over, the cattails stuck in their autumnal repose. It was lovely.

Maggie, currently snoring on the couch beside me, pounced several times on some unseen creature in the tall grass, but thankfully came up empty-pawed. I suspect she would be as horrified as I’d be if she ever caught anything. It’s all about the chase, about exercising her inner coyote.

The spikes on my crampons continued their magical performance on the ice. There was plenty of clear path today, but I chose to walk along the slippery edges. It’s all about the invinciblity, about exercising my inner Edmund Hillary.

1:30PM/8C