Walked through Mill Creek Ravine today with a friend. Other than a pleasant excuse to go for a walk with a very pleasant fellow, the purpose of this noon-day stroll was to help him with a project, and my ‘job’ was to speak about Mill Creek. Why it’s my favourite walk in the city. Easy job, although I’m an uneasy speaker, and as I discovered, a breathless and sometimes incoherent one. I was being recorded, and it’s not easy to walk and speak at the same time. Correction, it’s damn hard to walk, speak and not sound asthmatic and/or cognitively challenged. Nevertheless, it was fun, and a total pleasure to talk about Mill Creek. It felt at times as if I was escorting someone through a gallery of fine art. Thursday in the Park With K.

Mill Creek Ravine was spectacularly beautiful today, as if it knew we were coming. On with the party pants in varying shades of green. It’s been a few months since I walked the southern section of the creek. As per usual at the end of May, it’s lush and shimmering with bird song. Hard to believe I’ve spent any time away.

No one ever asks me about my walks. To be asked, well, that was kind of  great. Because most of my impressions are internal (unless I write them down in this blog), it was an interesting exercise in verbalizing my experiences in the ravine. Of course, you never really know if someone is catching what you’re pitching, but K seemed happy with what he was hearing. And he can always edit out the huge number of ‘um’s’ and the occasional heaving breaths. I think I also said ‘amazing’ about 50 times, but I’ve forgiven my mouth for its lack of inventiveness. And anyway, it is amazing.

For all of the verbal anguish, it was a fine walk, through a beautiful piece of Edmonton, with a very good (and forgiving) friend. That is enough.

8:43PM/20C

A stupidly beautiful walk in Mill Creek this morning. Took the train downtown, and then made my way through a very colourful Louise McKinney Park to the holiest of holies, Mill Creek Ravine. As per usual, I’ve taken some time off to enjoy this part of spring. The lush part. Everything is blooming, including the pink apple trees, the lilacs, and even the dandelions. The air is a living thing, full of flowery fragrances and poplar fuzz, especially now that we’ve had a few days of solid rain. Unfortunately, I was overdressed. Should’ve worn shorts and a tank. It’s just 20, but the few clouds scattered here and there weren’t enough to shield the sun’s heat. I boiled in my black capris and t-shirt.

My favourite little bridge is closed for repairs. If I’m in the area, I always feel like I should cross it, like some kind of superstition. Or maybe a form of OCD, but the mildest sort. It doesn’t really matter if I don’t, but this particular bridge represents everything I love about Mill Creek. I’ve stood many times on it’s creaky wooden boards, listening to the water rushing, and sometimes trickling, over the rocks. It’s very meditative. Hope it reopens soon.

It’s odd. I feel like I’m betraying Maggie when I walk in the woods without her. Just Mill Creek, of course. I’d never go dogless in Whitemud. Nevertheless, walking on these trails feels like being home.

3:03PM/20C

A brand new path today! It’s to the right of the little bridge at the bottom of the power line in Whitemud Creek. I’ve walked part of the trail, but in the winter, the steep drops were too much for my boots (and my heart), so I never made it the whole way through. Even in the spring, it’s still harrowing in places, and crossed by several fallen trees, but this time I bushwhacked my way to the end, and I have to say, it’s a great new addition to my catalogue of off-trail walks. Thanks to my niece, who is a stellar trail-blazer in every respect, we followed the path all the way to 23rd Ave. The monkey trail resembled Elk Island Park with flat grassland on the right, and at other times, it felt like a mountain walk through pine and spruce. And very undulating, alternating between creek-hugging paths, with various sandy outcroppings visible at close range, to cliff-like vistas. Never one to shy away from a quick dip in the creek, the dog kept trying head down the slope, but changed her mind when we hollered at her, which was often.

The trail is both grassy, and root-laden. A thousand ways to trip in other words, but I managed to stay upright, which is good because I was with my niece, who had assured me that under no circumstances, would she ‘haul my ass out of Whitemud’ if I fell. For some reason, I have a certain reputation in my family. No idea why.

3:30PM/18C (feels much warmer)

A splendid, bee-loud walk on a hot, spring day. Maggie and I left in the morning to avoid the heat but it was already there at 10:30. Went through Westbrook into Whitemud Ravine, and then over to Snow Valley. Managed the one steep hill that is much easier to ascend than descend. A little scary in places, but I managed to stay upright. Maggie availed herself of every entry point into the creek, and was a soggy, happy mess after the first hour. I envy her. What a delightful way to cool off…if only fetid beaver water didn’t bother me!

At the top of one of the hills, Maggie stopped to stare at something in the woods. When I looked, I could see the dark back of a slightly rounded shape, but I couldn’t quite place it. Maybe a deer, but the back seemed too dark. I suppose the other possibilities are a moose, or a slow-moving hobo. It was too dense to get a good view, and as soon as I tried to move closer, the sound of breaking twigs made the thing, whatever it was, disappear. By that point, Maggie was half way down the path and impatient for me to follow. She has fleeting interests in such things. If it’s not going to feed her, walk her, fluff her pillow, or pet her, she could care less. Such a simple creature.

Got my first burn of the season. Just a little shoulder action, but enough to give evidence of the day. Lots of bugs outside now, especially fat bees. I don’t know what their food source is in this flowerless landscape, but my forehead seems to be an intriguing possibility. I wouldn’t expect them to bite me, but I seem to attract them like flies. Flies with striped fuzz and stingers. It’s OK, I don’t mind.

4:11PM/24C

Vigorous walk in Whitemud…up and down the trails that have opened up since the snow melt. Still mucky in places but passable, and lovely. Great views…steep hills. I’m missing my Mill Creek trails, however. The variation, the familiarity. I should be able to walk more in my old neck of the woods starting next week, as the keepers of the house and children are now back. Good timing…things are starting to green up.

Looked at my posts from last year. Hard to believe how changeable May is, but if all things go to plan…in a couple of weeks, everything will be green and pink. And I’ll be on holidays. Not sure what I’m more excited about. Oh wait. Time off. Always.

On my way to Whitemud there’s a spruce tree with a magpie nest tucked into the needles. Never seen anything like it, and what a great idea. If I were a bird, which wouldn’t be such a bad thing, I’d want a condo in a spruce. So cozy, and so hidden. In fact, it would have looked like dead branches, like part of the tree, if I hadn’t seen the magpie delivering the twigs.

1:30PM/12C

Woke up to snow today. Sod it.

Many hours later, no sign of the snow, but lots of water. A very pleasant walk into Whitemud and beyond. The trails were also snow-free but too wet in the interior to walk. Maggie, on the other hand, found it neither too wet, nor too muddy, and she wasn’t walking…she was leaping…into anything resembling a puddle. I swear there’s a four year old boy in that dog.

Conversely, when she snorts herself awake in the mornings, it’s not a four year old boy but an eighty year old man hiding beneath all that fur.

No signs of life in the woods, other than a couple of ducks on the creek, oblivious to the dog staring them down on the bank. Lots of geese in the air. Must be a flight path or something. There’s always geese in the air.

Started to rain again on the way home. Very fresh and clean, but please, no more snow.

3:05PM/4C