In a continuing and rather ineffective effort to illuminate the issues with regard to the LRT expansion into the river valley, I’ve attended ‘information sessions’, yapped my mouth off to anyone who will listen, blogged endlessly about the beauty of the river valley, and written letters to local newspapers (cc’d to city councillors.) Here is my latest love letter to Louise McKinney Park, the Cloverdale Pedestrian Bridge, and the parts of the river valley that will be affected by the construction. The thing is, I have to say something. What’s coming down the track, literally, is a catastrophe for this part of the river valley.
Nothing like a long walk on a beautiful autumn day. Yeah, I know, it’s still summer. But in a few short days, the sun will officially bugger off to southern climes, and the autumnal equinox (on the 22nd) will irrevocably close the door on what was largely, a dreary, wet summer. Today, however, was lovely. A bit windy, but the colourful trees and blue sky made up for the complete lack of anything even remotely summery, like warmth. I don’t think it would have mattered if it was overcast and spitting rain, I had to get out on the trails today. Last week was so busy, I only managed a few short, perfunctory walks down Saskatchewan Drive, which is very unusual for me. All work and no walk makes Donna a very dull (irritable, bloated, weepy) girl.
I saw something astonishing down by the Cloverdale Bridge, and it did not involve any unecesessary nudity or someone with an ECCA petition (or both.) I saw…a bald eagle! I think. I was walking along the fenced off trail (tee hee) on the southeast side of the river, just past the bridge. As I’ve mentioned many times before, there is an island that appears every once in a awhile, depending on the height of the river. Right now, the river is low, and the island (named ‘Seagull Island’ by me, in a rather unimaginative moment), is not only visible, it’s grassed over and zoned for condos. The seagulls hang out there by the hundreds. I took a few shots with my camera and then
Run!!
continued down the path. All of sudden, the entire flock was airborne, and when I looked over I saw what appeared to be a huge mofo of a seagull, standing on the edge of the island. And then it flew up and I saw much smaller, and much deader seagull swinging limply from its claws, suggesting perhaps this was no seagull.
The hawk landed again and I was so busy trying to figure out what it was (a complicated manoeuvre involving the squinting of my eyes), I forgot about my camera. The bird kept moving, and from where I was standing, I’m not sure my pocket digital would have captured how big this thing was anyway, compared to the magpies flying around, waiting for leftover gull nuggets. The bird had an impressive wingspan, even flying short distances. It had a white head and a dark body, but it was hard to tell if it was the burnt umber of a bald eagle, or something else.
When I got home, I checked my books and I couldn’t find another hawk that resembled the bird I saw on the island. Therefore, my conclusion is that I saw my very first bald eagle! In Edmonton. According to ‘Birds of Edmonton‘ (Lone PIne Publishing, with b&w illustrations by moi), we do get bald eagles, but very few, and apparently, they like a nice seagull samich every now and then. Really, really cool! Well, cool for me, not so cool for the seagull, who I’m sure was just as gobsmacked as I was to see a bald eagle in Edmonton. However, unlike me, the seagull was not able to expand on this thought, as it was busy having its throat ripped out.
Five minutes later I was back up on the bridge to get a better view of the island, which was completely ‘disappeared’ of seagulls. Not one. Not even a few flying around, not even the bald eagle, who was either following this mobile grocery store, or had found a quiet spot to have a nosh and ponder why it was in Edmonton, and not the balmy west coast of British Columbia.
Another eventful day in the river valley. Another great walk.
Chilly, but ever so pleasant walk this morning. Stayed entirely in Mill Creek, about 80 minutes of sunshine and early autumn scenery. At the north end I could hear the Ned Flanders Experiment singing again in Louise McKinney Park, at least I think it was them, and my first thought was on a Sunday morning? And then…oh yeah. Sunday morning. Rock on Jesus people. Keep those hotdogs warm.
The lower trails in the ravine are quite wet. The temperature is no longer warm enough to dry the dew and rain, and we’ve already lost a couple of hours of sunshine. It’s quite lovely underfoot, but on a rare morning where my hair turned out near perfect, the residual moisture played major and irretrievable havoc with my locks. However, in the immortal words of Bill Murray from the Great Canadian Film~Meatballs...It Just Doesn’t Matter.
It Just Doesn’t Matter.
It Just Doesn’t Matter. It Just Doesn’t Matter. It Just Doesn’t Matter. It Just Doesn’t Matter.It Just Doesn’t Matter. It Just Doesn’t Matter. It Just Doesn’t Matter. It Just Doesn’t Matter. It Just Doesn’t Matter.It Just Doesn’t Matter. It Just Doesn’t Matter.…
Datura? I think. If not, just a big-ass, beautiful white flower
Much better! Sort of. Walked to the Strathcona market under moody skies, and decided that I wouldn’t risk a walk today. But, by mid-afternoon the blue had overtaken the grey and the sun was out. The beautiful sun. Once the sun is out, my choices are limited.
Lots going on in McKinney Park today. I counted three brides having their pictures taken in the vicinity of the park, and one particularly sparkly gal on the Cloverdale Bridge. Overpowering her giggles was the music pounding from the bandstand up the hill. Decided to do a loop around McKinney, coming down the stairs near the Chinese garden. There were long tables full of hotdogs and condiments, and a fair number of people milling about. No signs or anything, so I asked a couple of girls behind one of the tables what the occasion was, and the younger girl gave me a big smile and said, ‘loving people.’ Ah. Jesus. Got it. My suspicions were proven correct when I passed by the band and heard ‘Christ’ several times, and not in a exasperated way. Not a religious person myself, but seeing lots of unmonied folks eating plates full of food seems a better expression of service than some arsehole threatening to burn a pile of Korans.
As I left Christ and his tubesteaks behind, I watched a guy take a huge spill on his, oh, what do you call those things? Skateboard. Yes. Going around a corner on wet cement. Brutal, but the guy was laughing. Once I manually closed my jaw, I vowed never to ride a skateboard. This should be an easy promise to keep, along with my vows to never ride a motorcycle, try rollerblades, or use a Segway (but just because they’re dumb.)
This much needed 90 minute walk did the trick. I feel energized…rejuvenated…almost born again.
Just kidding! Still, nice to walk under blue skies for a change.
My running shoes are as clean as the day I bought them
This province-city-ravine can always use an extra gulp of water, whereas my backpack-jacket-umbrella-hair-face can live without it
Bad things about rain:
It’s cold
It makes me wet
It makes my electronic things wet (although my iPod and camera seem to have survived)
It shortens a much anticipated and much needed long walk
It starts when I leave work
It ends when I arrive home
And possibly the worst thing about rain...today…the $#!^&! sun came out! That big &^%!% yellow thing in the sky! That thing mocking me as I sit shivering in my hoody, my hair soaked, my socks soaked, when I should be on the trails. I suppose I could go out now, but it’s not the same. And whose to say it won’t rain again?
Ahhhh....wait a second! This isn't the day that was!!
It was not nice. There was no blue sky. No puffy clouds. It was cold, and misty. Yesterday, rain. I’m not complaining, well maybe I am. Late nights at work, so river valley walking out of the question anyway. Still, a few more sunny, warm days would be most welcome.
I know it’s fall, judging by the amount of casseroles I’ve eaten lately. The birds know it’s fall, judging by the amount of seed they’re eating (and flinging) out of my bird feeder. My petunias know it’s fall, judging by how shitty they look. I love fall! It’s just…I’m not ready to give up the lush. And the light. The casseroles can stay.
The day that was
Walked home down Saskatchewan Drive. Boring, but serviceable. At least I can see the river valley. Tomorrow, a long walk. Get rid of some of this residual grumpiness…
