The sky was such a deep blue this afternoon it seemed a deliberate act of one-upmanship against the previous two weeks of gloom. Talk about shooting fish in a barrel. An easy goal, beautifully fufilled.
The first day of Autumn…OK, not until 9:09 this evening, was spectacular. Still cool, but warming up over the next few days. The air is even starting to smell like rotting leaves and apples, which is incredibly evocative, of the rotting leaves and apples of my youth. When my sister lived in Virginia for a year, she said the east coast foliage was incredible, but she missed the smell of a northwest autumn. Must be the dead and dying poplar leaves. We’re a very smelly province.
It feels like it’s been weeks since I’ve walked through the river valley on my way home from work. As I mentioned in a previous post, it’s been a very busy and stressful month, and the weather hasn’t been particularly inviting. Now that things are quieting down at work, the weather has suddenly turned gorgeous. Perfect timing, although I think a few, long week-day walks, in spite of the rain and cold, would have knocked the frown off my face. Maybe.
Saw the Kingfisher again, in the same general area of Mill Creek. The Kingfisher is a migratory bird, so I suspect this might be the last time I see this stout little blue bird. Also noticed the seagulls are back on the island, suggesting that the Bald Eagle, sporting a brand new gull gut, might have moved elsewhere. Things are definitely on the move in the river valley.
It’s grab a sweater and make a casserole day. Finally. I’m so sick of summer.
In honour of the first day of Fall, please enjoy this review of South by Patrick McDonnell. It’s a post from my other blog, 32Pages. Yes, this is cross-pollination of a sort, but the book is wonderful. It’s about autumn, migration, and unusual cat behaviour.
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.
