My pursuit of dragonflies continues (whether darners, dashers, clubtails, spiketails, emeralds, skimmers, chasers, cruisers or petaltails and good grief who knew there were so many types just in Canada?). It’s usually an opportunistic pursuit. I might happen upon them while wandering aimlessly with my camera in hand, which maybe happens more often than it should. I might seize upon them when an intended photo-shoot is a bust, which definitely happens more often than it should.
In this case the intended targets — red-winged blackbirds — had decamped from their usual summer habitat: a grassy verge around the small pond adjacent to our usual home-away-from-home.
Well, not really. But it’s definitely what came to mind when I saw the close-ups of these quackers (female and juvenile mallards, I believe) in a marsh near St. Albert, AB.
Kids, what are you getting into?
Nothing, Mom. Why do you ask?
Australia has a Red Centre. I know because we saw part of it: a part still standing (Uluru) and a part long-since eroded into miles and miles of red soil.
Other places have red soil also: our own PEI as one example. And Utah, celebrated in video here, has a reasonable claim to be the Red Centre of the USA, although they’d likely prefer Red Center.
Resuming in-person visits with friends-&-relations-over-yonder after an 18-month hiatus, my primary impression is that the kids are all taller and the folks my age all look older. But travelling again was also a chance to remind myself of its many features. And maybe just a few of its bugs.
It was a reminder that bathrooms/restrooms/washroom/toilets can serve more than one purpose, and that people in other places face hazards I can only imagine.
It was a reminder that Alberta skies really are as wide and as blue as I remember.
A reminder that technology continues to offer new solutions to old problems.
A reminder that beauty can be found in apparently unremarkable landscapes — and that 9C is not warm when paired with a cutting NW zephyr.
A reminder that although many aspects of air travel have changed with COVID-19 — think wearing a mask all day and being handed a drippy alcohol wipe on boarding a plane — some things remain reassuringly the same. Things like being YELLED AT by security personnel (even more incomprehensibly, now behind a screen and a mask) to REMOVE shoes for a security check (shoes that had been emphatically INSTRUCTED to be KEPT ON during the previous check that day), and to COMBINE the laptop with its bag in ONE BIN ONE BIN (when it had ABSOLUTELY had to be SEPARATED on the previous check). I think these folks are not happy in their work.
But these annoyances do not photograph very well. Nor, in the long run, do they stick.
And so it was, again, a reminder that almost everything looks better with some altitude.
From Colorado Springs through Calgary to the last flight leg, I was greeted by accidental faces: the wizened/quizzical; the cheery; the home-alone.
After 18 months of close encounter my own home rarely surprises me, so it’s nice to be oot and aboot with at least the chance for new encounters.
That’s my mother. Her involuntary expostulation combined horror/disgust/amusement/outrage/bemusement/disbelief and still rings in my mental ears. What had I done *this* time to warrant a not-entirely unprecedented reaction? Merely announced my car-purchase intentions, if idle-but-genuine musings can be dignified with that name.
I think I’ll buy a green car next time.
I can’t say it any better than what I said 10 years ago.
May this New Year be filled with health, happiness,
and sweet times together for you and your loved ones.
My head tilts slightly as it does when I’m confused, and no, that never actually helps.
These days I’m methodically whacking my way through a large weeding project: an extended community garden that I neglected for an even more-annoying project for too many months this spring/summer. Tackling the mess in the morning to avoid the worst heat of these days with heat warnings, I fill a large composting bag a day and yet am uncertain whether I’m removing weeds and cutting back invasive plants faster than they’re growing.
Today, though, I woke up to rain, sorely needed but not entirely welcome in this dreary incarnation, even so.
Cold, grey rain pounds down
Wrecking planned fun, but off’ring
Day pass from weeding.
As someone here tends to say, nothing is all good or all bad.