Reintroduction

18 months….

• the age difference between me and my eldest brother
• 1/42 of my life in years
• time enough to welcome a beautiful granddaughter who will be 1 year old this month
• a time of waiting for elective orthopaedic surgery
• the length of time that has elapsed since adding a post to this blog

June 2017 was the month I had medical investigations that eventually landed me on a wait list for a total hip replacement. I had the surgery 16 days ago. In Canada's publicly funded health care system people often wait for elective surgical procedures. (It is good to know that urgent medical conditions receive more timely treatment) I was able to function well enough in this period of time to keep working and enjoy family as well as some vacation time this summer. Walking became increasingly painful and it was most comfortable to ride my bike for exercise. I missed birding and trail walking this year. 

This is a season of recovery and I have much to be thankful for. My surgeon told me that hip replacement and cataract surgery are two procedures that add the most quality of life to recipients. In a past generation I would be using a cane and a rocking chair for the rest of my days. 

I have been keeping a hand written journal over the past few years but want to share some thoughts on how life has been evolving lately. Change is challenging but resistance to change stems from an inflexible attitude that hinders new learning. Critical thinking, questioning, contemplating history, and being open to new ideas should not stop at any stage of life. 

And I have the time right now for reflection! 

May 10th

Grandma Devins was born 121 years ago on May 10, 1896. Her life and mine overlapped for over 30 influential years and a day seldom passes that I do not think of her. Her sister was born on May 10, 1908, on Grandma’s 12th birthday. I did not spend as much time with Great-aunt Dorothy as I did with Grandma but I have fond memories of her as well. She and her husband retired in Guadalajara Mexico and thus influenced members of my immediate family members who later moved to that country. In Mexico, Mother’s Day is always May 10th, no matter what day of the week it falls on. It is a holiday in many regions so people can spend the day with their families. Mom’s birthday was May 5th so everything fits tidily in this week. 

To honour all that this day means to me, the Becka and I had a lovely mother-daughter day making new memories while remembering moms, grandmas, aunts and sisters who are far away. Grandma loved birding, especially in May. We braved a cold east wind off Lake Ontario to look for birds around Burlington Bay, Ontario. Most of them were hiding, seeking shelter from the wind. 

Trumpeter Swans turned their heads away from the offshore breeze while trying to glean some warmth from the sun. This month has been cool and wet, slowing the growth of leaves and flowers. Masses of blooming trilliums in their ancient colonies would have flowered in the same way 121 years ago. Observing nature, one sees constant change as well as constancy. It is reassuring that spring follows winter year after year after year. 

We warmed up at Abigail's Tea House in the small hamlet of St George, where vintage bird-cage chandeliers and charming mismatched china table settings create a comfortable ambience. The family who own and run the tea house are friendly and chatty and serve delicious, well presented meals with the best of teas. Everything is made from scratch in the kitchen or next door in their bakery. Nothing in this small place appears to have changed in the past century. Grandma would feel right at home with the menu and service. 

Each spring I look for "Tree Face" in our nearby woods. Soon the growth of new leaves will hide the old, gnarled tree. The face looks more weather beaten this year but it still speaks of the past and its connection to new growth in the forest. And so I share Grandma's stories with my daughter, whose life overlapped great-grandma's by three short years. Connected to the past while changing and growing into the future, the family links remain strong. 


Currently reading: The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben
Currently listening to: As Time Goes By played by Beegie Adair

Four Years

I went to Mexico in January to stay with my father while my brother and his family were away. Some things are different, but many things in the house are still the same since Mom died. The kitchen was her domain and the drawers and cupboards are mostly unchanged. My teapot still sits on top of the fridge and pots, utensils and containers are in their rightful places. Her handwritten inspirational sayings remain attached to the fridge door with magnets.

Grandma Devins took a trip to Scotland in the late 1960s or early 1970s. She brought back a spurtle which is a wooden stirrer for making creamy porridge. Porridge was a served every morning in our home except for Saturdays when we had Shreddies. On Sundays, raisins were added to the gruel. Mom used the spurtle for years and the wood finally cracked. One of the last things she asked me to bring her from Canada before she died was another spurtle. I never found one and the old cracked one is still in the kitchen. Each morning I made porridge for Dad and myself and stirred the grains to perfect creaminess with the old kitchen tool…and thought of Mom. I almost brought it home, but left it where it belonged.

The kitchen is still the heart of the home. I squeezed orange juice while Mom’s dog Inge, who is now 11 years old, slept in the corner. Her great-grandson who was born a couple of weeks after her death, played hide and seek at the kitchen counter. Family photos remain on top of the grand piano and I saw my mother in my face. It upsets my father to speak much about her, but he continues in routines they set together and "sees" her often.

I watched the Vermillion Flycatcher outside the kitchen window in the mornings and admired the vermillion sunset over the mountains in the evening. The swallows returned to their nest outside the door and hummingbirds hovered around the flowers in the garden as they did when she was here.

Today marks four years since she left. I made porridge for breakfast and reminisced with some family members who called. Dad is not well and seems to decline step-wise at this time of year. Here are some verses from Psalm 90 that I love.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place

throughout all generations.

Before the mountains were born

or you brought forth the whole world,

from everlasting to everlasting you are God.

You turn people back to dust,

saying, “Return to dust, you mortals.”

A thousand years in your sight

are like a day that has just gone by,

or like a watch in the night.

Yet you sweep people away in the sleep of death—

they are like the new grass of the morning:

In the morning it springs up new,

but by evening it is dry and withered.

Our days may come to seventy years,

or eighty, if our strength endures;

yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow,

for they quickly pass, and we fly away.

Teach us to number our days,

that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,

that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.

Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,

for as many years as we have seen trouble.

May your deeds be shown to your servants,

your splendour to their children.

May the favour of the Lord our God rest on us;

establish the work of our hands for us—

yes, establish the work of our hands.

Circles of Control, Influence and Concern

I like to think of myself as a calm and rational person, and people who see me may believe that to be true. What they do not see is the turmoil I sometimes internalize which leads to distraction, fatigue, insomnia, inner turmoil, stress and anger. The amount of information we have to process in real time is often overwhelming and our responses can be emotional “knee-jerk” reactions. Complaining is a popular past-time at work and elsewhere, and too much whining is done about things that are not in our control

Stephen R. Covey described circles of concern and influence in his classic book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. He wrote,

”Instead of reacting to or worrying about conditions over which they have little or no control, proactive people focus their time and energy on things they can control."

In response to some stressors in my life this year, I drew three circles;-

Control, Influence and Concern. 

There are things in my life that I can control. 

There are circumstances and people that I can influence. 

There are areas of concern that I have no control or influence over at all. 

I have tried to manage my time based on what I wrote in my circle of control. An over-reaction to events we cannot control- 

a bad driver, a long check-out line, negative behaviour of other people, the weather report, the value of the dollar, and so on- 

drains our energy and darkens our mood. We have influence over people in close and casual relationships, but it is important to resist controlling others who are capable of being responsible for their own decisions, particularly our children and spouses. 

I recently returned from Mexico where I spent time caring for my father who is dependent in all aspects of his care. His inability to do things for himself due to advanced Parkinson’s Disease causes frustration and anger at times. We discussed this topic and talked about how his circle of control has become much, much smaller.

 

Like a child, he is increasingly controlled by his caregivers, leading him to ask what purpose there is in living with such a disability. He still has control of his words and reactions. He can influence the people he interacts with in a positive or negative way. It is within our power to control our attitudes, even in circumstances that are not ideal.

My three year old great-nephew came to visit while Dad was walking around the house for exercise. I watched as Great-Grandson pushed his scooter at the same pace that Great-Grandfather walked with his walker. Youth and old age, both with limited control but with significant influence on each other.

Here is the template for the circles I filled in with very personal situations and concerns. The exercise brought increased awareness of what things are most important for me to "centre" on.

New Year's Welcome

Whatever this year may bring I will remember

that it started in perfect harmony with a bubbling

brook that sang as it rushed over rocks 

and chickadees who chortled before 

taking seeds from my hand.

Whatever this year may bring I will remember

sunshine on fresh unmarked snow a

crescent moon beside Venus 

in the twilight sky and the 

exhilaration of a walk in crisp, cold air. 

Whatever this year may bring I will remember

to find joy in simple things and take time 

to dream, and learn, and give thanks, and smile 

even when life seems overwhelming 

and the future is uncertain.

Looking for Hope and a Future

We enjoyed Indian summer with several days of unseasonable warmth and clear skies this November. I watched the sun rise this morning, red and bright. The sky was on fire and late autumn leaves glowed in the low light. 

When it is evening, you say, "It will be fair weather; for the sky is red.

"And in the morning, "It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening."

(Matthew16)

And sure enough, a cold front approached in the afternoon with rain and cooler temperatures.

The leaves fall quickly now, crunching underfoot as I walk, covering the ground where they will shrivel and disintegrate.  I smell the dampness and mold that rots and hastens their return to the soil.

This is death. 

But I am not sad, for these leaves cover new life that will spring forth after the long, cold winter. There is a time of waiting, but the woods will once again be green and fruitful. 

Nations rise and fall. Good leaders and bad leaders have their season of influence. Sometimes it looks like hope has died but it will rise again when winter is over. These trees have seen many seasons, perhaps 100, 200 or more, some good and some bad. A season of dying always comes before the season of new growth. Winter is coming, but we have hope for better things in the future.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, 

“plans to prosper you and not to harm you, 

plans to give you hope and a future. 

Then you will call on me and 

come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 

You will seek me and find me 

when you seek me with all your heart.

Jeremiah 29:11-13 (NIV)

Lessons on Staying Young

I see the worst of physical and cognitive aging every day in my work at a hospital. It is easy to feel disheartened and believe that this is the inevitable pathway to death. I seldom see people who age well as they do not enter the doors of our facility as patients.

I will share the stories of two people, born in the same year, who inspire me with their energy, passion and joie de vivre. 

Jim and Margaret Atwood in Mexico

Margaret Atwood is a prolific Canadian writer and poet who has published many successful novels, short stories, poetry collections and more. Her first graphic novel, Angel Catbird, is to be released September 6th after next weekend's Fan Expo Canada in Toronto. I follow her Twitter feed and drink her signature, bird-friendly coffee from Balzak’s.  (Her graphic novel explores the relationship between cats and songbirds.) She is a passionate environmentalist, feminist, and humanitarian. A good friend of mine met her at a writer’s conference in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico a few years ago. She posed with him in the photo above. She is not slowing down in her mid-70’s and is an inspiration to younger generations of writers and artists. Our youngest daughter Becka, has a table at Fan Expo and is selling her own comic books and art. She hopes to have an encounter with Ms. Atwood and purchase her new book. 

Aunt Ruth, in blue, with co-workers at her birthday party

I have a special aunt who shares my name. She has the busiest social calendar around and is a talented musician. She works for an insurance company in Toronto and commutes downtown four days a week. Her co-workers put on a big party for her 75th birthday. This year, the company sent her to Nashville TN to celebrate her next, or maybe next birthday. Did I mention she is a big NASCAR fan? She has known joy and grief and life has not been without struggles. But she is resilient, with the  gift of laughter and the making and keeping of friends. Her co-workers wrote the following comments on her birthday card.

“Your zest for life in an inspiration to us all” 

 “Happy birthday to a young team member” 

“You are so amazing! I want to be like you when I grow up”  

“You are such a joy to have on the team” 

“Keep that young heart beating” 

  “Looking forward to working with you over the next year”.

I have written about ageism and our tendency to segregate people by birthdate. It starts early in preschool, ends in nursing homes and is pervasive in churches. I have the privilege of working with many young millennials and our age differences are insignificant. As a team we complete the tasks and goals of the day. Sometimes I get to be “Work Mom” to younger colleagues when asked for advice or a shoulder to cry on. Every generation has something to offer to those younger and older than themselves.  

I posted the poem Youth by Samuel Ullman earlier today. It deserves its own reading and expresses so many truths about chronological age vs functional age. Even when the body slows down and faculties dim, we can be young at heart.

Doubt, fear, despair, pessimism and cynicism age people who are 20 or 80.

Faith, hope, self-confidence, optimism, and wonder keep us young at any age. 

YOUTH by Samuel Ullman

YOUTH

Samuel Ullman

Youth is not a time of life - it is a state of mind,

it is a temper of the will,

a quality of the imagination,

a vigour of the emotions, 

a predominance of courage over timidity, 

of the appetite for adventure over love of ease. 

Nobody grows old by merely living a number of years. 

People grow old only by deserting their ideals. 

Years wrinkle the skin, 

but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. 

Worry, doubt, self-distrust, 

fear and despair - these are the long, 

long years that bow the head 

and turn the growing spirit back to dust. 

Whether they are sixteen or seventy, 

there is in every being's heart 

the love of wonder, 

the sweet amazement at the stars 

and starlike things and thoughts, 

the undaunted challenge of events, 

the unfailing childlike appetite 

for what is to come next, 

and the joy and the game of life. 

You are as young as your faith, 

as old as your doubt; 

as young as your self-confidence, 

as old as your fear, 

as young as your hope, 

as old as your despair. When the wires are all down 

and all the innermost core of your heart 

is covered with the snows of pessimism 

and the ice of cynicism, 

then you are grown old indeed. 

But so long as your heart receives messages 

of beauty, cheer, courage, grandeur 

and power from the earth, 

from man and from the Infinite, 

so long you are young. 

This is posted as background for my next blog post.

I looked to see if the poem is copyrighted but several different versions
 are widely available on the web.  I like this one best.

Summertime

Lake Manitou, Manitoulin Island, Ontario, Canada- view from our cabin

My childhood summer memories are spread across two hemispheres and much travel. I was born during a summer thunderstorm in January and my Christmas break from school was also our summer holiday. I remember trips from Durban to northern, higher, cooler altitudes during the hottest season as well as weekends at the beach on the Indian Ocean. I had no sense of seasons in South Africa.

In Canada, I enjoy the marked change of seasons but prefer the transitional ones, fall and spring. My perfect calendar would include two months of May and two of September, sacrificing November, December or even July. Some of our best holidays have been in September and October.

Lake Huron at Goderich, Ontario

I love the months we can sleep with the bedroom window open and when going outdoors is comfortable and convenient. Canadian winters are beautiful, treacherous, long and unpredictable. In our area of Ontario, summers are hot and humid and mosquitoes and other biting insects keep me away from my favourite trails. We have stayed in summer cottages in central Ontario where mosquitoes, black flies and deer flies have left us with scores of welts and sleepless nights as whining insects buzz in our ears.

Common Loon on Manitoulin Island

In my opinion, the only place to spend an Ontario summer vacation is on a LARGE body of water where insects are kept away by lake breezes. I love the beaches on Lake Huron and we vacationed at Southampton for several years when our children were small. Now, we usually spend a week on Manitoulin Island, the world's largest freshwater island in Lake Huron. The sound of waves, the call of the loon, the full moon on the water at night all speak the best of summer to me. A Muskoka chair, a good book and a cup of tea at the water's edge is a picture I keep in my mind on stressful days at work.

Inukshuk on the shoreline of Lake Huron at Goderich, Ontario

One thing I would advise my 20-something year old self would be to settle and work in a community on one of the Great Lakes. We are within 1 to 2 hours driving distance of Lakes Ontario, Erie and Huron but I would love to experience their moods every day, not just in the summer. Perhaps that will still happen. 

Background Changes

After a mild winter with little snow, spring has thrown in an ice storm and two significant snowfalls. My husband was watching the bird feeders this weekend and commented on the Dark-eyed Juncos that were hopping on the snow-covered deck searching for seeds dropped by the messy finches. It was the first time he had noticed our winter visitors this season. They have been here since September, but without snow they blend into the branches and ground unlike our more colourful birds. With a white background, they are far more visible. 

Juncos come south in the winter and then vanish to northern nesting grounds when spring is well established. We visited the province of Newfoundland last July and saw nesting Juncos in Gander. Juncos hopped about on the sidewalks of downtown St. John’s just like House Sparrows do in southern Ontario. It was the first time I had seen them in the summertime. 

Personal relationships, careers, locale, retirement, illness, losses, conflict and political events can alter the background colour of our lives. Attitudes and behaviours that were not apparent in the past can stand out in times of transition. People can show admirable strength of character or demonstrate a lack coping skills when faced with background changes.

The age of social media, instant information and misinformation, excessive and often irrational opining, can bring confusion and anxiety. These words, published in 1859, apply today.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”  Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

My observations of nature reinforce the fact that change is cyclical and essential. The Juncos that are so outstanding today will leave over the next few weeks for their summer home. Seasonal background changes offer opportunity for learning and discovery. 

I am on the cusp of significant change as retirement from a full time career comes closer. It may happen in one year or ten, but it is on the horizon. The timing may be up to me or may be a decision made by others. I feel as uncertain as I did when deciding on a career path after high school. It is time for new goals and new learning on a new background. 

Easter Ice Storm

We had an ice storm last week that left the region in its grip for almost three days. Some homes were without power for longer than that, but most of us were barely inconvenienced. On market Saturday, we drove north of the city and admired the trees shrouded in ice along the Conestoga River. By mid-afternoon, the sun finally broke through and temperatures rose above freezing. Rainbow crystals loosened and then fell from the branches in a euphony of shattered ice. By evening spring had overtaken winter once again.

I have a few movies I like to watch during the Easter season. One of them is the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005). Winter retreats when Aslan arrives and, standing at the fast flowing river with the ice cracking around me, I felt I was in the story.

The birds and the sun assure me that spring is here and another season of life begins. 

End of April

Early spring wildflowers

Spring time in Canada is unpredictable as winter seems reluctant to release its grip on the land. April days can be warm and sunny, wet and windy, icy and snowy, all within the space of a week. I never considered spring to have arrived until the leaves on the trees opened during the first week of May. The first six weeks of the season were just too fickle.

I know better now that I recognize its early and sometimes subtle signs. 

Longer days, shorter nights.

Bird song in the morning.

Delicate flowers poking up through dead leaves.

Birds with bright, new mating feathers.

Motherhood.

Wood Duck, Male Bluebird, Female Bluebird, Tree Swallows

I bicycle along a consistent route in the evenings.  Starting on neighbourhood streets, I enter a meadow where I check on the Eastern Bluebirds and Tree Swallows. The next stop is a pond, partially created by a beaver dam in a creek. In the reeds at the back are two pair of Wood Ducks and the males are absolutely magnificent in their spring plumage. So far this year I have counted 38 bird species on this small loop.

A couple of nights ago I was "sit-spotting" at the pond located in an industrial park right in city limits. A beaver was agitated at my presence and passed back and forth in front of me with frequent tail slaps. I noticed a small and crudely constructed beaver house near the drainage pipe at the roadway. I am certain she had young kits in that house and I was simply too close for comfort. 

Here is a two minute video of some wild life at this pond including the beaver mother. Birds have been returning here in the spring long before the roads were paved and industrial lots were constructed. It will be interesting to see what my bird count will be during the month of May. 

April 22, 2013 - Two years later

This is a week of anniversaries…

Today marks two years since Mom left us.

Forty years ago she helped me with last minute preparations for my wedding which was just four days away. 

April 26, 1975

Mom was an optimistic and visionary person. Grandma used to tell me that Mom performed in piano recitals but sometimes made mistakes and stumbled in her performance. The missed fingering didn’t stop her and she persevered with enthusiasm and confidence to the end. As a young child, she organized her things for school the night before without prodding and was always ready for the day ahead. She loved to be around people, was a leader and wasn’t the least bit shy. And so she was as an adult too.

I remember her singing joyfully as she did housework. She played the piano in the afternoon after she finished making dinner while waiting for Dad to come home. Our family ran on schedule whether we were in a house, on a ship, or on the road. She had 5 children, crossed the ocean 4 times, lived and worked in two different cultures, all by the age of 32. She must have been exhausted at times but I never heard her complain. She and Dad left Canada with my three younger brothers shortly after my wedding and started a new life and ministry in Mexico. 

Sometimes her eternal optimism and extroverted personality were at odds with my more timid and reserved nature and she pushed me beyond my comfort zone. I mostly appreciate the prodding now even though I didn’t at the time. 

Life was not always easy but Mom never lost her joy, optimism and hope for the future. In later years she sometimes mentioned things from the past she would do differently, but old mistakes did not keep her from moving ahead. She never really accepted that she was dying as her bucket list had several more items she wanted to cross off. The physical difficulties of her last few years and the emotional distress they caused are still foremost in my mind. Memories of earlier events, stored in the attic of my mind and shaded by the curtain of time, come to light randomly. 

She lives on in me, in my brothers, our children and their children. She modelled what it meant to be a daughter, a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a friend and a servant of God. We learned from her successes and her missteps. The virtues and values she instilled in us need to be nurtured, especially her ability to move ahead in faith in the face of difficulty and uncertainty.

Philippians 4

4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

The Secret Garden

I fall asleep quickly when travelling, whether by bus, airplane, as a car passenger, and unfortunately I fight drowsiness as a driver too. I download audiobooks for long trips and find they keep my mind engaged and alert. We really enjoyed audiobook versions of 101 Dalmations and Peter Pan on recent road trips to Ottawa. Mom used to read us a chapter or two from her old books after lunch and I remember our elementary school teachers reading to us at the end of the day. Listening to stories still gives me pleasure. Movie versions of classic books pale in comparison to written literature in my opinion. 

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett is one of my favourite books from childhood. I identify with the sullen and displaced Mary and love how she comes alive as she pokes around in the earth and watches things grow. She bullies and encourages Colin back to health and the two odd children start to engage with others in a normal way. Today I found a delightful secret garden as I spent another afternoon looking for spring.

I walked along the river which is running fast and high. Much of the trail was flooded and there were few birds in the strong, bitter wind. I heard a Northern Flicker and followed the sound up a hill by an old church. Next door to the church is the old home of the Canadian artist, Homer Watson, which is now a (reportedly haunted) art gallery. Apparently his sister didn’t leave the house after she died.

The large property has a few tiny cabins where aspiring artists came to stay and study between 1948-1966 at the Doon School of Fine Arts. The yard is sheltered from the wind and green things were growing. A Robin dug several grubs out of the soil and a pair of Northern Flickers and Red-bellied Woodpeckers were on the trees. Another lady was walking by with a camera looking, as she said, for something with life. She hadn’t noticed the flowers yet. Barely visible in a bed of dead leaves were hundred of crocus flowers. Behind a shed were masses of snowdrops and a bee collected pollen from open scilia flowers on the sunny lawn.

Snow drops are my favourite spring flower because they often appear first and when the ground is still snow covered. From now on flowers will open in rapid succession…hyacinth, forsythia, daffodils, pulmonaria along with a host of spring ephemerals, all before the leaves open on the trees. Today I saw the spring flower show start in the secret garden. 

Now that you have read my little story, you can look at the pictures.

Spring Arrives at Last

Several days of sunshine and above freezing temperatures have started a thaw and the promise of winter's end. Spring break started today and we are a week away from vernal equinox. It is time to look for early spring migrants. I usually see Red-winged Blackbirds and American Robins by the second week of March. A coworker who lives near me posted a picture of a Robin in her yard this morning. I looked in all the usual places for these two birds and did not hear or see either of them.

But I did see...

A Common Grackle- average return date to Ontario is March 7*

Three Turkey Vultures- average return date is March 14

A pair of Killdeers in an industrial park- average return date March 10

A small stream broke free of ice and snow and bubbled toward the Speed River. I saw my first and only American Woodcock right here a couple of years ago. They usually arrive around March 12.
Red-winged Blackbirds return on March 4 and American Robins on March 10 on average so I expect to see them in the next few days. There are very few trees with berries or fruit and the ground is frozen solid so there is not a lot of food for Robins right now.

I didn't take a picture of the girl walking by in shorts and a t-shirt. After all it was 5 degrees celsius which is about 35 degrees warmer than the morning temperature less than a month ago on February 16th. And that is something to celebrate!


*dates are from Mike Burrell's blog

Spring Sun

Extreme cold overnight temperatures broke records yet again in this bitter, thaw-less winter. It is our third harsh winter in a row as we enter the second week of March when Red-winged Blackbirds and Robins generally return. The sun is stronger and stays longer each day and nature responds in preparation for spring in spite of cold winds and deep, ice-crusted snow.

Many birds have paired up and are bold and conspicuous against the snow and leafless branches. They are eager for food in the cold and followed me as I left handfuls of seed on the trail.

American Tree Sparrows will be around for a few more weeks before heading north again. Juncos were scarce this winter and I saw only one today. A single Song Sparrow sat quietly in the bush and I suspect it is not a returning migrant but a bird who over-wintered here.

Male Cardinals now sing loudly from the treetops early in the morning as nesting season gets underway. This lovely fluffed up female kept a discreet distance but watched where the sunflower seeds were dropped.

Several Cardinals sat facing the sun as I passed by and a Downy Woodpecker was so eager to get suet from the cage that it did not fly away when I was only a metre away.

I am so ready for spring and will enjoy the longer evenings that come with the time change this weekend. I feel like a solar battery that has lost its charge and look forward to more light and the energy it brings.

Winter Springs to Summer

The beginning of May and October are my favourite times of year, seasons of transition, colour and beauty. Spring is unpredictable and sometimes rushes by with its succession of introductions and openings. This year rain and fog shrouded several days of soft greens and quiet blooms. This week we finally squeezed in our annual spring walk through the woods while there was a severe weather watch in place and large thunder heads intermittently blocked the sun.

It was a long, hard winter and some warm, artistic soul yarn bombed some trees along the trail. They either really hated the blankets or really loved the trees.

All the spring ephemerals were blooming at the same time this year instead of spreading their charm over three or four week.

Bloodroot...

Trout Lily...

May Apples...

Marsh Marigold...

Jack in the Pulpit...

and Trilliums. We come year after year to admire the carpet of white.

Raven is now three years old and behaves well off leash with us. It was almost 30 C on this humid afternoon as she stopped to rest by this knoll covered with Trilliums. Wild Ginger is growing at the edge of the trail where she is sitting and its blooms are at the base of the stems, covered with dead leaves.

I rode through the bush again today, five days after these photos were taken. Most of the flowers are finished and the leafy canopy has closed off much of the light. Ferns are growing rapidly and in a short time mosquitoes will keep me away from these trails until there is a fall frost.

Happy Victoria Day!