With all due respect to Peter Gabriel, it probably won’t get that bad. I might have to say goodbye to my boots, but I can always get a new pair. It’s spectacularly wet on the streets and sidewalks. Giant puddles everywhere. The sun felt wonderfully warm today, far warmer than the 3C would suggest. Had to rethink my routes a few times, especially along the aptly named River Road. I was going to walk along that path and into Rossdale, but after I watched a car send a huge sheath of water on to, and presumably, into a jogger, I decided to take the stairs by the Glenora instead. Considerably drier at the legislature, and not quite as noisy.
Dead tired from a busy week and some assorted cold-like symptoms which have yet to blossom into a full-on cold. Watched the aftermath of a three-car fender bender on the Low Level Bridge, or more to the point, watched the cars pile up along Scona Road. When I reached the Wild Earth Grocery, they were backed up past Whyte Avenue. Just one of those moments I’m glad my commute is on foot.
Scona Road bike path
The City is already moving snow, cutting down trees, and decorating the Scona Road bike path with little red flags, even though the road widening isn’t supposed to start until May. The whole thing will be über annoying, but I suppose as a pedestrian, I will only be mildy inconvenienced. Very concerned about the businesses along 99th. Guess I’ll just have to step up my efforts at the bakery.
Much better. I don’t feel nearly so grumpy today. No coyotes or elves, but what the walk lacked in creature encounters, it more than made up for in sun and warm temperatures. Within a few minutes I wished I’d left my gloves at home, and minutes after that, the rest of my clothes. Outer layer of clothes, that is. Only five degrees separated yesterday and today, but no wind and an unfiltered (bright, glorious) sun made today seem like an entirely different season. The melt is on. Time to dress myself in rubber.
Walked for about two hours, most of it in Mill Creek but looped through Louise Mckinney to check for goosesign. More splayed footprints on the river, but no actual geese. I think. Even if a goose had waddled up in front of me, I was so snow-blind by that point I would’ve missed an entire flock of geese. My retinas are still sizzling. The sun is very, very bright on all that pristine, white snow, soon to be the dirty, dirty snow of spring. And then…grass. I mean gravel, and then grass.
…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.
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.
A shadow of its former self
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.
From a previous walk. No sun today. Camera frozen.
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
How to cope with the weather
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…
The usual suspects: businessmen in suits. I don’t want to cast the net too wide, progress is driven by people with vision, including businessmen (and women), but this unassuming little park is once again being carved up like a well-done turkey, or a turducken, as McKinney Park is a mashup of forms squeezed into one tasty, slightly unfocused package. The east end (with the rose garden) is about to be demolished for the LRT expansion, and now the west end is ‘under consideration’ for further Convention Centre development.
What the hell?
As an empiricist, and more importantly, as an empiricist that lives, works, and plays in the afformentioned area, I have reached the conclusion that park space in the vicinity of downtown is an anathema to the city of Edmonton. It’s just too damn tempting for developers, not easily valued, at least in terms of dollars, and it’s…well, green.
Churchill Square, formally a flat, grassy slab smack in the middle of downtown, has of late, been transformed into a flat, cement slab smack in the middle of downtown. True, there is a slanty bit and some sticky-out parts and even some stairs, like a grandstand, on one corner, but it is essentially flat. As opposed to its
One of many wooden staircases in McKinney
former incarnation, the new Churchill Square has a quantifiable purpose, or purposes. In fact, they should rename it Liver Square; it has a thousand functions, it’s asymmetrical in a rather unattractive way, and it smells a bit after the weekend. The Square is home to many events and festivals throughout the year. It’s also a place to eat a hot dog, skateboard, buy theatre tickets, and perform or observe any number of crowd pleasing and occasionally illegal activities. From the west, the grandstand completely obscures the view of the giant, metal pavlova, otherwise known at the Art Gallery of Alberta, but whatever. There was nothing spectacular about the former Churchill Square. It was green, and it had benches. Also, many drunks, which is where the new and the old come together. I’m not grieving the old square at all, really, but now that it’s paved over, there is no other green space in downtown Edmonton, except Louise McKinney Park, which is technically in the river valley. However, it’s directly below Jasper Avenue and for the people who work and live downtown and are so inclined, McKinney is a real park, with paths to stroll and trails to run, benches, bees, picnic tables, and the river. It is a respite from downtown, but it is nevertheless, part of downtown Edmonton.
a painting of the original Louise McKinney Park by Donna McKinnon
Like Churchill Square, Louise McKinney Park has undergone many ‘rethinks’ over the years. When I started walking along its paths close to 20 years ago, the hill was nothing more than a verticle field, with a few intersecting paths. The weeds and wildlflowers were it’s main, and only, feature. I thought this was enough, or it was enough for me. Apparently, I am not a typical demographic. I walk, that’s it. It’s my only form of exercise, and visually, a field of bee-loud wildflowers is about as good as it gets. This little parkette, in its modest form, made me happy for years. Recently, I have watched Louise McKinney Park change from a place of limited (but appreciated) function, to a place of multi-functionality, like the new Churchill Square. Unlike Churchill Square, it’s still mostly green. The wildflowers (and weeds) are gone, but they’ve been replaced by a rose garden, more trails, more trees, a dock, a promenade, an ampitheatre, and various other additions, some of which are inexplicable, but all have been in keeping with the idea of a park. There are many more things to do here now, although I suspect that the main users, like myself, still enjoy the park in the old way, as a spirit-lifting transition from city to river valley, a corridor of peace and beauty a breath away from the heart of downtown. Once Bob the LRT-Builder moves in later this year, all that is gone. Permanently.
And now, apparently, it’s time to gut the other side of Louise McKinney Park. It’s very early in the planning stage,
I beg your parden. The McKinney rose garden.
and I’m pleased to hear that Mayor Mandel is not in favour of this downward development into the river valley. It may never happen. But I have to say I am tired of this theory that development equals improvement, and in this particular case, that the proposed convention centre expansion will in some way ‘be-jewel’ the river valley. The LRT bridge by the University certainly did not bedazzle the riverbank. It’s a utilitarian structure. It has function, but no form. None of the LRT stations throughout the city, including the most recent additions, make the slightest attempt to enhance or integrate within the surrounding areas. Function, but again, no form.
The lovely Louise McKinney Park
There is a lot of ugly in this city. It’s not that I am against development, I am just wary of the lack of vision, and this strange, hypocritical attitude the city managers have toward the river valley, the true gem of this city. Short of prostrating myself across the proposed field of destruction about to be inflicted upon the east end of Louise McKinney Park, the Cloverdale Pedestrian Bridge, and the Muttart, the LRT development into this part of the river valley appears to be unstoppable. The cost will be huge, and irreparable. If the Shaw Centre is allowed to spill over into the other end of McKinney, it will cease to be park, the last bit of green space in downtown Edmonton. Some folks will neither notice nor care about this loss, because a few less hectares of grass means a thousand more conventioners gobbling up our goods and services. But you know, they can do this anywhere, from any location. Shriners have vehicles, I’ve seen them. Is it too much to ask to leave this bit of green grass, this humble little oasis, alone? Spare us more ‘bejeweling’; further development is not required to get people to visit Louise McKinney Park. Perhaps a little advertising, maybe something that showcases what it is now, a beautiful, if not tragically imperiled park in the heart of downtown.
