Gorgeous, long walk after my class today. Took the train to downtown, and then made my way via Louise McKinney to the 98th ave trail, which is not actually on 98th, but closer to the river. There is the main trail, and then there is the off-limits trail, which is the one I always take. It’s fenced off because of an eroded bank, but the path is well-trodden in spite of the signs. It’s a beautiful, snakey trail, with lots of fallen trees, and the ones that haven’t fallen are very creaky. One area has four or five trees gnawed on by beavers, which is unusual in this part of the river valley. Whitemud Creek is full of beaves, but not here, or at least, not until recently. The verboten path does not run the entire length of the trail, but ends at the header into the flat path before the ascent up 98th. Unfortunately, I’ve just missed the blossoming apple trees, but judging by a few suspicious green things hanging from the branches (could have been insect, could have been miscellaneous plant material), we’re heading into worm season. Best to stay out of this area until July. After this walk, of course.

At the top of the trail, I did the loop around the sports fields and McNally High School, and then down to Riverside Golf Club, over the Dawson Bridge, and into the ever so quaint Riverdale neighbourhood. Very bucolic and quiet, as per usual. The elm trees are just raining seeds for some reason. We had the opposite of a droughty winter, so the trees shouldn’t be double-seeding. (I wonder if double-seeding due to stress is the equivalent of over-eating because of stress? Nah, probably not.) The gutters are full of seed. Prior to my walk, I was near the university, and some of the trees looked brown and dead, but the branches were cocooned in seed. I watched a wind blow thousands of them from the tree, beautiful and sun-lit; something magical in the middle of a bus lane.

After Riverdale, I stumbled back up to the downtown train station for the ride home. The walk would have been improved if I hadn’t been wearing a heavy backpack. (Must have been the coloured post-it notes and peanut M&M’s.) Nevertheless, it was everything I could have asked for on a holiday walk.

3:00PM/23C

A quiet walk in the ravine with the dog. Thinking, remembering, enjoying the hot sun on my face.

Went to my friend Angela’s funeral this morning. I first met her in 1990 when I started at Audreys Books. 13 years later I quit for good, but continued to drop in to the store, to buy a book, but mostly to see her. After she retired, I never went back. She was the bookstore to me. Her parents, Mr and Mrs Whaley, owned the store prior to 1989, just before I started. Sadly, I missed those years. Everybody who knew them loved them, just like they loved Angela, and the store radiated their good stewardship for years after. In fact, the bookstore is named after Angela’s mother, Audrey, and the other Audrey, wife of Mr Whaley’s business partner (and co-owner of the store), hence the lack of apostrophe.

While still at the store, and up until last month, Monica, Barb (who got married in Angela’s living room), and I met regularly for birthday dinners and Christmas get-togethers. We visited her in the hospital last week. It was hard to see her bedridden, but she was still Angela. Still funny, still telling stories, still directing everything. We had an impromptu bedside shower for Monica and her new baby Sydney. Angela enjoyed a doughnut with sprinkles, while watching Monica open up the presents. Angela was a mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. She had great stories to tell, and loved to tell them. Ironically, she wasn’t much for reading, but she taught me a lot about people, about making friends and building relationships. She also taught me more than I cared to know about Elvis.

The ‘celebration of life’ was just that. Lots of great photos of Ang, smiling ear to ear (she had a beautiful smile), hoisting a glass or holding a baby. Remembrances, music (courtesy of her granddaughter Sarah and…Elvis), good conversation, and food (including her beloved Cozy Shack rice pudding.) It was strange and wonderful to meet her family,  most of whom I knew all about, but had never met in person. I introduced myself to Mr and Mrs Whaley, and thanked them for many things, including Audreys Books. They were so kind and gracious. How awful to be at your daughter’s funeral. I remember my dad at my sister’s funeral in 2000, a shrunken version of himself. When Mr Whaley spoke during the remembrances, I was balling like a kid. How sad it was, and yet, with his walker, to have the strength to be able to stand up there and express his love for his daughter. About holding Angela in his lap when she was a baby. About how much they all enjoyed being together. Calling her his sweetheart. It was very moving, and I’m crying now as I write this. For whatever reason, I was OK up until today, and then I could barely hold it together. Part of it was seeing all the people who were there because of her, all the people who loved her, like I do.

When we left the service, I could not get over how huge the sky looked, as if there were no horizon, just rows of clouds bumping up against each other and an arc of blue sky as far as I could see. And so, when I got home, I put on my running shoes, grabbed the dog and got out into nature. I still feel sad, but my parts are holding together again. Death sucks. It really, really sucks. No other word for it. Being out in the woods, under a big sky, a woodpecker banging on a tree, the dog running ahead to find the nearest water to jump into…it’s like an exhale. It’s peaceful.

Goodbye my friend.

Part III of this week’s Mill Creek Ravine walks. Part I, on Monday, I attended a class and then headed over to Mill Creek under cloudy skies. It was a cool walk, but beautiful. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of juice. It’s not a bad thing to walk without a camera. Instead of looking for that perfect thing to shoot, I can enjoy the intrinsic perfection of everything. But then, the moose. The day I walked in Mill Creek, and I came alongside a moose, and I’d left my camera at home. It’s my security camera. To prove the miracles.

Part II was yesterday. Met a friend for lunch, attended yet another class, in shorts, with the intention of hopping into the woods afterward. Deep in the interior of the building, I was hoping for sun, but when I emerged, it was POURING rain. Took the train home. Things started to lighten up. Thought I’d at least walk home from the train. I could see the dark sky at my rear, but I thought I could outwalk it. 10 minutes later, I was still walking, and the thunder started, and then the intermittent drops exploded into sheets of rain. Good thing I brought my umbrella, it kept the centre of my head dry. Everything else, soaked. OK though. I love the sound of rain as it’s falling on me.

Today, part III, I met another friend, had a great lunch, and was able to watch the skies as we drank our minty refreshments. Not a lot of sun, but no rain clouds. Headed toward Saskatchewan Drive after a few canopied blocks of green, then down the soft-wet stairs into Mill Creek. Simply glorious. I can’t help compare Whitemud and Mill Creek. The trails of Mill Creek are narrower, more enclosed. I feel surrounded, wrapped up in green. The creek is also narrower, almost parallel to the trails, so it’s more audible than the wider and deeper Whitemud. Depending on the chosen trail, the sound of babbling brook is never far away. On this last day of May, the effect is sensual overload. Everything is stimulated at once. So, so wonderful.

I did find it incredibly humid, uncomfortably so, which was weird because I didn’t feel it earlier, or later in the afternoon. By the time I got back to the south side of the city, I was almost cold. Well, as my grade seven science teacher said, ‘evaporation has a cooling effect.’  This is all I remember of Junior High Science, other than potassium permanganate is pretty.

3:45PM/22C

I love spring. The part of spring when the green is intense and the smell of growing things is knee-wobbling. (Makes me wish I had a scratch n’ sniff blog.) Maggie loves it too. I can only wonder at the complex scents sucked up through that long snout of hers; noted, registered, deciphered in a millisecond. It’s all I can do to pull her away from the moist grasses and muddy creek beds of Whitemud Ravine. It must be blowing her mind, the stories they tell. Come to think of it, she has been extra distracted lately. Those canine brain cells must be bursting with all the sensory data flooding in. Over the last few days, I’ve been trying to capture her nose at work. It’s difficult if not impossible. Even if her body is still, her snout is not.

Yesterday was beautiful and shimmery after 24 hours of rain. Our two hour walk through Whitemud Creek was wonderfully smelly, but full of mosquitoes. Today, under a threatening sky, the day-mosquitoes were just as bad, but we spent less time in the grass waiting for me to take a good picture (a futile exercise) and more time on the trails. Let me rephrase that, I spent less time in the grass, Maggie wandered in and out, following her nose, reading her molecular treasure map.

And then I remembered this picture from last year. Thankfully, Maggie was just interested in a sniff of fat caterpillar, not a meal.

Oh to be a dog for one hour. Sniffing the fragrant air and the just come to life foliage. No dog asses, please, and no humping either. The other stuff. The myriad smells of spring. And then I’d have a nap. A snack. And then a nap.

 2:30PM/20C

Walked all three days of the Victoria Day long weekend. Whitemud Creek on Saturday in the blazing heat. Terwilliger off-leash on an overcast Sunday, and today…back in Whitemud Creek but along the trails closer to the ski hill. Also overcast, and humid. Maybe we’ll get a spot of rain. Did a lot of monkey trails today. The sand bars running parallel with the water remind me of Mill Creek. Can’t wait to get back there next week, during my holidays. As for Whitemud, the creek is sporting a rust colour these days. Not mud, something organic, or so the person who knows such things tells me. As per usual, Maggie doesn’t discriminate. She got thoroughly soaked today, and then rolled in something. So, back into the water. So far, all I smell is wet dog. Nothing ‘organic.’

2:58PM/18C

Things are greening and warming up. One week until my holiday, so the apple trees better hurry up and get their blossoms on. Once again, Maggie refused to go for a long walk, so we just fooled around down by Whitemud Creek amongst the bees and tiny blue butterflies. She availed herself of the cool water a few times, while I stood on the ‘shore’, taking bad photographs and watching my skin turn red. Wrong part of the day to take pictures. Too bright and washed out. Nevertheless, an enjoyable, if short amble for us both.

2:30PM/22C