2012 Canoe trip

Canoeing is always an adventure, not just for the activity itself, but for the places it takes you. We canoe the river within the city, but it always seems like a warm up for the main event - canoeing that takes you days into the wilderness. Our friends convinced us to pack up and join them on a trip into the Experimental Lakes area of Northwestern Ontario. Only a little way from the highway, and still within cell service range, and yet the feeling of wilderness is all around. 

This narrow creek, opening alongside a small forest road, is a gentle introduction to the adventure. No sign yet of the winds to come once you get out onto the open water.

 Of course squally weather, after it drives you off the water, rewards you with this - a magnificent rainbow!

 And there's nothing quite so tasty as bannock cooked over a fire. In this case, the grill was left at the campsite by previous users, and the fire ring already set up. Signs of many other users, even though we didn't see many in the flesh while we were there.

 The light shades from gold to coral on its way to pink. The sun is below the horizon yet still providing light generously from the few clouds still above us.

 Evening is the perfect time to try each other's canoes, just for a quick trip round the island.

 The sunset colours create a surreal experience reflecting off the lake. Surrounded by rose, salmon, and every tint of pink laid over the crystal blue of the twilight sky.

 As the colours wane the wind eases too, and the ripples become smaller as the lake settles in for the night. Infused with all the shades of sunlight, we also prepare for sleep.

Also Not Newfies

In our efforts to add a Newfoundland Dog to our family, without actually buying a puppy from a breeder, we have met some very interesting dogs. Here are two fine fellows that were each, at one time, suspected of having Newfoundland ancestry. Of course, neither of these guys is a newfie. One is German Shepherd mixed with Tibetan Mastiff.  The other is likely a Caucasian Shepherd.  Same size, same bulk, same clumsiness and much of the saliva. But very different temperaments. We have never felt so well-defended.

The Newf Who Would Not Swim Part II

A few years ago I posted about my Newf dog who was seriously not into swimming. He never did get into swimming, although he liked being near water.

He was a great canoe companion, only ever dumped the canoe once when we forgot to ask him to wait at the dock. Did you know that the gunwale makes a poor step and an excellent springboard for launching any remaining passengers, especially those in the stern, immediately into the water? Well, now you know. He hit the dock and I hit the water at almost exactly the same moment. No time between to reflect or prepare my approach, just splash into the drink. I guess that's why they say you should not leave your lifejacket in the bottom of the boat. Anyway, he only did this once. WE are trainable too.

On long river canoeing trips he would fidget when we were near land, with the rustlings of birds and rodents and who knows what audible from the banks. Once we set out to the middle of the stream he would settle down in his spot between cargo areas, and rest his nose on the gunwale. He wasn't quite tall enough to maintain this position with any comfort, but he would keep his nose as high as possible to make sure not to miss anything good passing by. More than once his fine canine nose spotted interesting wildlife before primate eyes were aware. When he found porcupines, we were glad to be so far from the shore. He was instantly alert and ready to chase, but fortunately reluctant to leap into the water to pursue his prey.

The only time he didn't care for canoeing was when we encountered shoals. Whenever the canoe ground against rocks, he would leap to his feet and 'surf' out the rough patch. When we canoed the Souris River, one ill-advised May Long Weekend, and the spring meltwater had already passed through, he spent more time on top of the cargo than in the canoe bottom, riding up high to avoid the vibrations of rocks against wood and kevlar.

(sidebar - it's odd to think of that tiny trickle as the same river that is currently destroying homes and farms across Manitoba and North Dakota.)

You will note from my use of the past tense that this fine Newf is no longer with us. He had a series of health problems this winter culminating in an aggressive version of the tumours that have plagued him since he was 3. It also turned out that he was mislabeled - not a Newf at all but a setter-spaniel mix with a bit of this and that, but not Newfie at all. That doesn't excuse the lack of swimming ability, though. Gundogs of all kinds are usually water lovers too.

We had many fine adventures with our lovely dog, whatever his breed. He was a willing companion on any kind of hike or boat or car trip. He travelled all across the country with us and seldom complained. He was infinitely patient with our lack of skill at communicating with dogs, and forgave us instantly when we got things wrong. Everyone should be so lucky.

Daredevil Turkeys

Back in October we visited relatives in southern Ontario for Thanksgiving. You would think that on Thanksgiving, the wild fowls would be laying low. But no, here goes mama turkey right through the suburbs with her brood of young ones. We stopped to let them cross, as did the truck you see coming towards us. They took so long we had plenty of time for photos. Apparently people around here get their turkeys from the grocery store, and this hen can bring up a whole nest of young!

The Fall of the Merlin Tree

High winds are not kind to tall trees. We came home the other day to find no power to the house, and a man walking on the garage roof. A wind gust (or a series of them) had broken off one of the three tall shoots of spruce. Down it came, and the power line with it. The tip embedded itself in the back yard, and the base leaned gently against the side of the house, missing everything breakable on the way, other than the powerline.

We consulted an arborist, who decided the other two leaders were at risk of coming down soon. A crack had formed between them, opening wider with each gust. So, down it came. The tree people took away most of the rubble, but left us the main trunks for firewood. Not sure if we can bear to burn it!

We lost about half the height of the tree - it is no longer taller than the house. The lower branches still shade the back yard, so we kept it for now. It opens up the yard to more sun. (This is me trying to see the bright side of disaster!)

We will definitely have no more Merlins now.

Wayside flower

A Lady's Slipper I found alongside the highway on my way into the city.

I was heading into the city to make an airport run on a beautiful July afternoon. This patch of pink blooms always catches the corner of my eye, and I just have to pull over to take a closer look. The dog was very patient with me while I burrowed around in the ditch getting a good angle. It was windy so it took a few tries to get the flowers to stand still. I noticed the poison ivy after it was already too late...

I love the delicate shading on the petals - just the merest hint of yellow at the centre and the stronger pink of the lip. A few stands of flowers were nearly past already, but this one was still emerging.

Fall garden

The backyard garden always has a hard time at this season of the year. By late September it has usually been dry for a few weeks, and the sandy soil just bakes. Earlier this week even the raspberry canes were starting to wilt. This is when I realize that I really need to add organic matter to the soil. Lots of fibre to hold on to moisture and give the roots a chance of reaching deep enough to stay alive through the winter. Call me cheap, I just can't bring myself to water it enough to keep it happy!

Camping at Baker's Narrows

We went north for Labour Day Weekend, to Baker's Narrows just east of Flin Flon.  We had reserved our spot back in May, choosing one of the few reservable spots based on its number (we like the number 22).  Turns out it is one of the best spots!  Neighbours not too close and this great view just over a small rock ridge.

Brother Duck

Our campsite attracts an odd assortment of neighbours!  This flock of ducks - I think they are a nestful of juveniles - followed us home from the beach.  

They marched right up the path, along the road and into our campsite.  They looked at us inquiringly: "got anything to eat?" We found a few crackers.  Apparently we are not the first campers at this site to find a few crackers!

They hung out for a while but stayed back a bit once the dog noticed them.  

They were rather like a group of monks going on their daily alms rounds.  They have no begging bowls, just a hopeful look in their eye and a willingness to eat right off the ground.

Do not adjust your set

I was having some technical difficulties adding photos to my posts.  Not so good when they are about a picture!  Seems to be fixed now.  Sorry about the delay!

Midsummer Garden

This garden is at its peak in mid to late June, when this picture was taken. The Shasta daisies are in full bloom and the purple iris bloomed for the first time this year. At this point I started to realize just how crowded the garden is. The raspberries are taking over the right side so that nothing else has a chance to grow there. I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea to plant vegetables here!

Spring garden

Sorry, I got a bit behind with garden updates. I have been busy with my vegetables at the community garden. This is how the corner garden looked in late May or early June when the first few plants were starting to poke above ground. Promising, but still a little sparse.

Epinette

One of my favourite spots. Just a few steps from a gravel parking lot to the rolling prairie. Step carefully or you'll get cactus thorns between your toes! Past the cactus patch and the rolling hills begin. You can bike across the prairie, or hike it if you don't mind climbing up just to climb down again. It's a beautiful walk but the sun can be merciless.

Beautiful blooms today - purple prairie clover, pink onion, wild bergamot, goldenrod, sage, and others that I can't remember the names of. The first time I came here, years ago, there was forest here. Since the fire the blue Grama grass has taken over along with all these wild flowers. Charcoal and decaying wood feed the soil for new trees to grow. A few remain to lead the succession.

This spot feels sacred, and it's not just because of the sundance site nearby. Here you can feel the slow insistent cycle of life.

Roadside Lady's Slippers

I spotted these Showy Lady's Slippers in a ditch along the TransCanada Highway. It was a steamy hot day and they were at their peak. They just caught my eye as we were driving past.
I suppose I really ought to be watching the road. Still, it pays to have a roving eye!

Flowers under the deck

The space under the deck was looking too bare and muddy since we took away the old deck. We decided on a hosta bed around the bottom of the tree and a bark path making a curve around it. We filled in the spaces between the young hostas with impatiens in all sorts of bright colours. I'll add a picture soon of how they look now that the flowers have filled in and the bark has been added.

The Climbing Elm

This tree and I were friends for years. I discovered shortly after we moved into the house nearby that this is a stellar climbing tree. It is an Elm tree, the last one in the neighbourhood to survive free of Dutch Elm Disease. It has clearly always been in good health, as its growth is regular and freely branching. The trunk forks every three feet or so, providing crook after crook to plant a foot in. If you manage to plan it right you can just climb up as if it were a rather odd-shaped ladder.

As a kid I used to climb up about 15 or 20 feet, then perch on a branch to survey the neighbourhood. In those days the neighbourhood mostly consisted of bush. There were a few houses, 2 or 3 that I could see from the tree, and lots of trees in all directions. My perch in the elm gave me a good view of woodpeckers, robins, warblers, nuthatches, chickadees, kinglets, and geese in the spring and the fall. A totally different perspective on the busy community of life around me. There wasn't usually much noise of people in the neighbourhood in those days, but the birds and the squirrels kept up a steady racket.

The neighbourhood is a little close in to the city, and over the years it gradually filled in. Most of the large lots have been subdivided and more houses built. Most of them have kept the large trees around the lot, but it's not the same uninterrupted forest of scrub oak that it used to be. This picture was taken on my last climb up the climbing elm. My parents had sold the house and were about to move out. I took one last climb to thank the tree for all the summer afternoons I spent held securely in its strong branches.

I think the elm is still there. I wonder if anyone else has discovered what a good climbing tree it is?

Snow Geese in Spring

Six strings of silver and black
Ripple against the blue sky,
Bright feathers glinting in the noon sun,
Calling “Stay together, safer together,”
Hurrying homewards, steadily north and west
To the past and the future.

Frozen Garden

At this time of the year I always get the urge to start gardening. I need to resist the urge. Whenever I start plants indoors in January or February, they have a long hard time of it indoors before they ever see the sun. When it's sunny and the days lengthen, it's hard to remember that we have more than three months to go until the last frost.

Most years I have planted mainly flowers. In recent years I have been experimenting with herbs with some success, and the last three years I have grown some vegetables too. This year I want to expand this corner of the garden to accommodate more space for vegetables and herbs.

Last year I planted several tomato and pepper plants and grew some against this fence, and others on a second-storey, south-facing balcony. The ones on the balcony baked and eventually developed blossom end rot, but the tomatoes in the garden fared a little better. This year I plan to make space for more tomato plants, pole and bush beans, lettuce and a couple of squash plants.

I went out in the snow the other night, pacing out the space and picturing in my mind where each plant will go. This will have to be enough for now!

The Merlin Tree

We live in an older house in an older neighbourhood, with mature trees and bushes on all sides. The dominant feature of our back yard is this spruce tree. I don't know how tall it is, but we have a three-storey house, and it stands well above the roof. It provides generously for a small ecosystem of creatures. Chickadees and nuthatches comb its branches and bark daily through the year for small insects. Red squirrels strip it annually of cone-bearing twigs, many of which they carry promptly into our roof, but that's another story.

The most exciting tree-dwellers from our point of view are the ones that don't actually eat from it, but nest in its branches. Every second summer since we have lived here, a pair of merlins nest high in the branches, about halfway up the portion pictured here. We have never seen the nest, or been able to spot them sitting in it, but we know they're there! Early in April, as soon as the snow starts to soften, we hear them calling to one another from the tall trees in the neighbourhood. If we look carefully we can often spot them sitting on exposed branches.

They spend a few weeks going from tree to tree, calling loudly. They seem to be inspecting the possible nest sites and discussing their various merits. Eventually they settle on one. Two summers ago, and two summers before that, they chose our tree. Both times they have raised one chick to maturity, and by late summer we see the three of them taking short flights around the neighbourhood. This time of the winter they are still somewhere far to the south, but already we hope they will come and raise their family here again this spring.

The Newf Who Will Not Swim

When we adopted a part-Newfoundland dog, we expected our dog to swim. We expected a dog who would adore swimming, who would have to be dragged or bribed out of the water. A dog who would splash enthusiastically off docks to rescue drowning swimmers, fishing nets, or other assorted jetsam. We did not expect our dog to be terrified of deep water. To be fair, he is only half Newfoundland (we think).

The first time we took him to a beach, he was quite willing to wade, but looked at us suspiciously when we invited him further into the lake. I went deeper and deeper, and he just looked at me with a worried look in his eye. After several minutes of me calling him from deep water, and him whining, he apparently decided that I was not going to come out of that dangerous water without some help. He set off bravely into the depths, until he reached the point where his feet no longer touched the bottom. Then panic set in. Instead of swimming, he tried to climb the water with very little success and much splash. The more he splashed, the more upset he got. To his credit, he kept going until he reached me, then turned around and headed right back to shore. He went right out onto the beach, and refused to put even one toe back in the lake no matter how I called. After a vigorous shake, he ran around in faster and faster circles, growling and snapping at nothing the whole time. So much for swimming!

In fact, his lack of swimming ability has not slowed us down much. We are not that big on swimming either. We prefer canoeing, and he is quite happy to ride along in the canoe. We got him a life jacket, just in case.