I don’t want to hear it. Snow in May isn’t the magical, sparkling thing it is in December. Yes, it’s good for the soil. Yes, it will melt. Yes, it’s fun for the kids, but the few snowmen that have rolled up here and there drip with irony and only encourage more snowfall. It’s best not to acknowledge them.
The one thing that distinguishes December snow from May snow is the green grass poking through underneath. It is a striking contrast, promising a quick recovery from a temporary setback. However, I refuse to unpack my boots, so no icy hills today. In my defense, I did not take my resistance quite as far as the guy I saw in shorts. His knees were weeping.
It sure did. Lots of rain, lots of snow. No walking. Well, some walking. Enough to snap a few shots, get my toes wet, and severely oppress my hair.
sure, it's pretty but....
It was beautiful. The softest kind of beauty, but too much for some newly foliated shrubs and trees. And apparently, some power lines. On my way to Timmy’s for some sugary diversions, passed by a spruce tree that was full of tiny sparrows huddling and chirping amidst the fat snowflakes. Decided not to walk home. Too wet. Too wary of those swooning branches with their duvet-sized snow packs.
This is the third day in a row the eggs in the nest under the Cloverdale Bridge have been motherless. I’ve gone by at different times of the day, so I’m not just catching it at a ‘scheduled’ break. I realize the mum has to leave every now and then to get a sandwich, but this seems strange. Has she abandoned the nest? I see the geese in Louise McKinney Park every day, so the family is present, they’re just not attending to the nest. It’s a confusing and sad thing to watch unfold, especially as there is nothing I can do, short of rappelling down the bridge with a rope and a snuggly for the eggs.
On a brighter note, I got rained on today. As soon as I saw the sky outside my door, I realized it was a definite possibility. I wouldn’t choose to walk in the rain, but if the skies open up while I’m walking, well, what are you going to do but enjoy it? Prior to this, I was having a good hair day, but this is now a distant memory. However, the rain made the ravine smell gorgeous, and as soon as it stopped, the Robins came out singing. Who wouldn’t? Worms for lunch! Yum.
Saturday: Who knew after 15 years of walking Edmonton’s trails I would find another path, tucked into one of the areas I walk most frequently? My intention was to walk up the path that runs parallel to 98th Ave. It’s steep and lined with tall, sun-shielding spruce trees, making it several degrees cooler and a shade darker than other trails. If you continue along the path that circles McNally High School, it not only offers an excellent view of downtown Edmonton, the path eventually leads to the Leave it to Beaver neighbourhood of Riverdale. However, this particular part of the trail is currently inaccessible due to much needed renos on the rust-infested Dawson Bridge.
So, I was just going to walk up the hill, and then back down and over to McKinney. In the unfoliated days of early spring, it’s easy to spot the monkey trails that lead off the main paths. Often they are not any more interesting than the main path, but the opportunities for a swift death at the wheels of a speeding biker are greatly enhanced. Occasionally, these winding paths are spectacular, as is the one I ‘discovered’ today. It runs along the south bank of the river from the pedestrian bridge to the hill, and with few leaves to block the view, it’s basically an elevated walk along the shore. The island that appears when the river is low runs parallel to this path, and the noise from the screaming seagulls that flock there is almost deafening. I’m pretty sure I saw two of them having a private flock on the edge of the island, but perhaps they were just friends.
Don't blame the beavers
There are many fallen trees along this trail, and judging from the non-beaver chewed tree stumps all over the place, it appears to require a fair amount of maintenance to keep the path open for us walky and bikey types. Much appreciated. Nevertheless, the trail was full of bumps and curves, with lots to see on either side. Can’t wait to try it out when it’s exploding with green.
In life, and in the river valley, it pays to take the monkey trails.
Good news. There is water…of a sort…in the frog bog. I wouldn’t dip my toe in it, or any part of my body, but I’m not a frog. Slimy and grey is the thing in bog ambience, and I expect to hear a cacophony of croaks, cackles, keening, and every other type of lovesick frog song in the coming days. Oh frogs.
Hmm…the depth of my fascination with amphibians getting in on at the local bog suggests I may need to get out of the river valley more often…
However, I did notice that green is overtaking brown in the city. So nice of nature to oblige my colour preferences. After several days of rain the air no longer smells like the inside of my vacuum. Just fresh, green life….getting it on.
