Wonderful walk. Wasn’t sure I’d get to have my after work stroll when it started raining this morning, but by noon, the sun had come out. New life is starting to drown out the dead brown stuff. There’s even bits of green grass here and there, a few tiny leaves, and one of the botanical society gardens at the Muttart has some sprouting crocuses. Or is that croci?
Took the LRT to downtown, and then walked up Grierson Hill to McKinney. A lone goose was standing in the middle of the Turtle Effigy, waiting for me to walk by with a camera. Just down the hill from the Effigy, a robin with
Robin Red-Chest
the loveliest ruby-red breast was perched on a tree. He refused to sing, but he didn’t fly away either, which I thought was rather nice of him. Oh to have a macro lens. A real macro lens.
The frog bog was once again bubbling with frog song. Flipped on the video and finally captured that crazy sound, although the picture is kind of grainy. Can’t distinguish the singing frogs from the humping frogs. Maybe it’s better that way.
The Mill Creek frog bog is at full-croak! Last year, early spring was droughty, and the bog never filled up. This year, it’s never been empty. On my way home from a long walk this afternoon, I heard that strange cracking sound coming from the bog, and I knew my froggies were back. I stood on the edge watching the rippling water, and the occasional frog head poking up above the reeds, being ever so grateful I was in the right place at the right time. I should really geek-out and start carrying binoculars as it was impossible to make out their individual froggy faces, but there seemed to be a great many of the tiny amphibians, all vying for the attention of the aloof girl frogs. At least I think that’s what’s happening. Why else would they be singing their little off-key hearts out? About ten minutes into the concert, a magpie swooped in and landed on a nearby branch. The almost deafeningly-loud bog went dead quiet. Nice to know I’m not preceived as a threat, but they sure know an enemy when they see one, if they actually saw the magpie, of course. Maybe they just heard it, or perhaps, there is a sentry frog watching out for the local predators. Anyway, I waved my hand and the magpie flew away. Five minutes later, the bog was still quiet. A sign that I should leave too? Might as well. A bog without frogs is just a slough.
**Addendum to this entry: A few days after this post, CBC’s Radio Active played an interview with Brian Keating about the Boreal Chorus Frogs, which are the very fellows profiled in this bog blog. It was very thrilling to hear this guy, who shares my enthusiasm for these little froggies, but unlike me, has some education to back up his opinions. Here is theinterview.
The good news continued. Godzilla is back spewing water in his terracotta pot in my neighbourhoood, so spring is well and truly here. Looks like he’s had well-deserved buff & shine; his eyes have never looked so beautifully radioactive. Welcome back, brother.
Look up…look way up
The weather can’t quite decide what it wants to do today. Alternately, I was cold, or too hot and wishing I’d worn shorts. The sun, when it was out, was very warm, but there’s a lot of clouds in the sky and yesterday it rained. I really do need to graduate to capris, or shorts, and pack away the leggings for the year. There is very little snow, and the paths have largely dried up. Three weeks from now, it will be a transformed landscape, but for now, brown prevails.
Walked over to McKinney through the lower path in Mill Creek. Quite often I see ducks in the water by the intake valve, but not today. Even the North Saskatchewan was missing it’s usual contingent of sqawking seagulls. The island is submerged under the fast-moving river, so their perch is temporarily gone. No geese either. Just robins. And frogs. The woods sounded very lovely today.
A perfectly lovely, albeit lengthy walk. About two and a half hours, the last fifteen of which I was jonesing for a cab. Sadly, none showed up.
Got off work a couple of hours early, so I continued on my quest to undo the intermittent sloth (and sickness) of late winter/early spring. Might be overdoing it a bit, but it’s been so splendid, weatherwise! Walked up to the legislature and then downtown to McKinney. Over the footbridge, I spotted some giant ice blocks floating down the river which had knocked themselves into an impromptu island, populated by a flock of squawking seagulls. In spite of my fatigue and ridiculously heavy backpack, I decided to take a slight detour to see if I could get a close-up shot of the glacial aviary. Turns out, my go-to path adjacent to the river was blocked by frost fence and sludge.
You Shall Not Pass!
The fence was hardly a barrier (ahem), but the muck was pretty bad, and this being an unmanicured path, no one removes the detritus leftover from a harsh winter. It was almost impassable, in other words, but I managed to dip in a few feet and take a some shots. The gulls were very loud, probably missing their land island buried somewhere beneath the ice and water.
Really gotta find my summer clothes. I baked in my leggings and jacket, and probably looked a little dorky. As per usual.
Could’ve used my shorts today, wherever they are, and a sleeveless t-shirt. Incredibly nice and warm. I was one of hundreds of bodies on the trails, which included butterflies fluttering about on the upper trail in Mill Creek. They are deep brown with a yellow fringe on their wings, and they always return to the same part of the trail in early spring. So early I often see them perched on the snow. All the gang is back, in fact: the spiders, ants, and all the little flying things that make the atmosphere seem summery even when there are still mounds of dirty snow just about everywhere. Can’t help but be grateful for their evocative presence.
There were many, many people in Louise McKinney Park enjoying the sun or a bit of exercise. Kinda flies in the face of those who think no one ventures into this little parkette unless there is a dragon boat race or some other major draw. Nope, today the draw was the warm weather, the chance to be close to the river, and the variety of trails in and around McKinney. The City is once again building something along the main trail. Not sure what, but there is an ugly little detour, and even the lowest part of the trail, which is both paved and unpaved, is partially blocked off. Hope it’s not another public washroom.
Lots of geese about, including one lone goose who looked rather lost in thought, if that’s possible. They seem a mile
blau und braun
wide and an inch deep to me, but what do I know? I believe there are five geese living in Louise McKinney Park and vicinity. Also, countless ducks, none of whom appeared particularly thoughtful.
I looped back through Mill Creek, which still has some major muck going on, but not enough to warrant boots. Wonderfully fragrant in the heat of the afternoon. A bit of rain and we might just see some green.
An early morning Good Friday walk in the woods. Excellent time to take a hike. The mud on the trails was still frozen so it was relatively muck-free, and completely, unutterably gorgeous. The robins and waxwings were singing, the sky was a luminous blue, and everything was indeed, good. Ice covered puddles with a thin crystalized film of ice provided many delicious opportunities to shatter and crack my way through the woods. Felt so energized I even did some stairs at the north end of Mill Creek. All the lower trails were passable, although the central area close to where the rooster roosts was entirely ice covered and most likely impossible to cross later on in the afternoon. Other parts of Mill Creek are quite dry and
The rare Glovewood tree
almost dusty. Typical spring day.
The Glovewoods are blooming everywhere. Even ran across a very rare Glovewood tree with a big, fat blossom. Bushes and shrubs are much more common, but occasionally a tree will sprout a five-fingered bloom, but of course, only in the Spring. Spent about 90 minutes on the trails. Thank you Jesus for the day off. And Mr Fruit n’ Nut.
“I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a mid-afternoon at the Legislature toker…”
Smoke O'er the Water
Well, I’m not, or at least not usually, but everyone around me is, including, I think, the dogs, the squirrels, and a few uncharacteristically friendly magpies occupying the soggy grounds of the provincial government Legislature on 4-20. International ‘get baked’ day, a celebration of hydroponics, hot pockets, and cannabis. Also, black hoodies, judging by the similarly attired crowds. I look forward to this day every year, and I go out of my way to make the Legislature part of my walk into the river valley. Unlike last year, I didn’t see anybody flying the freak flag, other than a couple of kids with their faces painted like marijuana plants. I was hoping to see Bongman again, but he was nowhere to be found. Not a surprise, there seemed to be many more people this year. Mostly young people, or at least those flexible enough to play hacky sack and sit cross-legged on wet grass.
I have no measurable experience with cannabis, but I do enjoy late-night snacking and the occasional public gathering. Nevertheless, in my running room jacket and backpack, bleeding uptight from every pore, I stuck out like a sore thumb. No matter, this crowd exudes nothing but herb-induced affability and a slight blue haze. The seat of government never smelled so sweet.
