A sunny day!

Not terribly warm, but the bright sun and blue sky were adequate compensation. Wandered over to Riverdale for a quick visit. As mentioned in a previous post, this neighbourhood is no longer accessible via the Dawson Bridge because of repairs, so I just did a loop from the Cloverdale Bridge. My entire walk was just under two hours. It doesn’t take very long to walk through Riverdale, although I slowed my pace just a bit. It seems appropriate. In spite of all the new development, the predominance of pre-1950’s homes makes the neighbourhood seem sleepier than it probably is.

Ran across a cat that had been shaved to look like a lion. A very thin, pathetic facsimile of a lion. The head, ‘ankles’, and the end of the tail were left furry, and everything else was shaved to the skin. Exceptionally unkind, I think. Perhaps not physically, but for a cat, this is straight up emotional cruelty. (That’s what the cat said, anyway.) She seemed humiliated, and who wouldn’t be? I could never do that to my cat. First of all, she’s fat…so if I shaved off all of her fur, she’d look like a dwarf Buddha, and because I would have just experienced my own bloody demise, my ability to enjoy this visual would be greatly compromised. I apologized to the kitty on behalf of all apes, and sent her on her way. There was no pride in that lion.

3:50 PM/14C

…in Hawrelak Park, with the exception of the geese. And the goslings. Many fuzzy goslings. The smaller they are, the more golden. The older ones are less fuzzilicious, and grayer, like their parents. Apparently, some geese are far more fertile than others, or perhaps Hawrelak has an extensive daycare program on site. One pair had about 20 goslings under their collective wings, all of whom were being ordered about by a fishwife of a mother goose, with the inevitable befuddled dad looking on from the sidelines. In the water! Out of the water! Down this way! No! Not that way, this way! It was very amusing, and kind of familiar.

At the north end of the park, there was a sudden invasion of angry protesters with placards and yelly voices. Hard to imagine what sort of support they hoped to acquire in an empty park on a cold day. (The geese were clearly busy.) As I got closer, I could see the signs had flowers and sparkles, and the whoops of righteous anger were actually whooping school children. The dead giveaway was the Panago Pizza truck parked by the shelter where the young rebel rousers were gathering. Real protesters don’t eat pizza; fair-trade trail mix is what soothes the civically unrested.

Spent the early part of the afternoon at Hole’s Greenhouses drooling over containers of flowers that were so perfect and beautiful they seemed edible. Didn’t buy anything. Might get a frost tonight, and it would have looked pretty ridiculous hiking home with a potted begonia in my arms. Actually, I did buy a plaque with a sculpted bee on the surface.  I am very fond of bees, and the plaque fit nicely into my backpack. Tempted by the gargoyles but they didn’t seem quite as portable. Next time.

After several other visits in St Albert, got dropped off at Laurier…a very mucky Laurier, and then over to a wet Hawrelak. Still cold outside. The clouds are sodden and unsettled. But…no rain today. And no snow. On Saturday the snow came down so straight and fast it looked like it was being pulled to the ground by powerful magnets.

What a weird May.

According to Josh Klassen, coldest May since 1996. Twice as much precipitation as Jan thru April combined.

7:10 PM/12C

Remember when it was a balmy 7 degrees? Yesterday, in fact?  Oh 7 degrees. How I miss you.

It’s now 3 degrees, and it’s been raining solidly all day. And not just raining, I’m sad to report. As I stepped out of the Farmer’s Market, the rain suddenly got….I don’t know...thick. What’s the word for that? Can’t remember. I think it starts with a s….

So. I have no choice but to sit in my chair and read all afternoon. Something in the Swedish murder mystery vein, I expect. The birds are happy that I’ve filled up the feeder again. The rain and the chirping birdies will be my musical accompaniment.

Actually, this sounds kind of perfect.

2:44PM/3C

You know…in January, if the temperature went up to 7C, Edmontonians would be on their knees thanking Buddha for such mercy. It is now the end of May, and it is 7C, and I am on my knees begging for mercy.

Hyperbole aside, I suppose it’s not that bad. We need the rain, and…uh…fuck.

Fuckfucketyfuckfuckfuck.

Gimme some sun. And warmth. Now. Please.

2:01 PM/7 &%$# degrees

That’s the sound my skin made when it hit the cold air.

Had to go to work today for a brief presentation, delaying my walk for a couple of hours. Brought a tank top and shorts, thinking that by the time I left work, it would be warm. Wrong. Cloudy skies and chilly winds greeted me at the door, and by ‘greet’ I mean, ‘slapped.’ It’s quite fascinating to see how quickly my skin can turn bright red. Damn my ruddy-faced ancestors!

In an attempt to get warm, I ran up the stairs by the Glenora Club. Or most of them. The top few I wobbled up, my heaving chest throwing me off balance. Then, through Ezio Faraone Park, which was packed with people, most of whom appeared to be participating in a noon fitness class. What a way to ruin lunch.

Instead of the MacDonald Hotel stairs, I took a different set near the Chateau Lacombe, which were pretty but I had to jaywalk in several places to get back to a real trail. Not sure where it would have taken me had I stayed on the sidewalk leading from the stairs, but I’m guessing back toward the Leg underpass. Wrong direction.

Stole a few more Lilacs on the way home. Never really warmed up, but at least my skin resumed a normal colour. If you can call that normal.

1:30PM/12C

No need to lay out on a rock like a reptile, my blood has warmed. As is the prerogative of the rich (not me) and the vacationing (me), I spent almost two hours in the woods ambling about with no particular path or goal in mind. Did the stairs by the French School (Ecole something or other) for a bit, then over to Rutherford, Mill Creek, McKinney and various other monkey trails, until thirst finally trumped adventure.

I suppose I could have availed myself of a water fountain, but the last one I passed (in Henrietta Edwards Park) was occupied by The Dog Walker and four of his charges. I see the Dog Walker all the time, and have for years, so I was surprised when he showed up on my TV one night a few years ago in a documentary. GREAT doc, and interesting dude. Very shy, but his dogs always seem quite jolly. I saw him a couple of times today; near the boat, and then later by the fountain. He was sitting quietly on the bench with his grinning dogs, writing in a notebook. The quantity and type of dog always changes, but the Dog Walker is as a dependable feature of the river valley as magpies, meandering creeks, and another walker, sans dog (or dogs.)

I’m always happy to see Mr D. Walker and his dogs, but not as happy as I imagine the dogs (or the dog owners) are to see him.

4:04PM/19C