Wordless

Well, sort of . . .

Wordless

:)

A remedy for the grumpies

"Still raining!" This is the common greeting around here, these days. Yesterday was the eighth straight day of the stuff. Drizzly, cold, constant rain. And the weather people are promising us another two weeks of it before the first sunny day. In which I no longer believe. It is going to rain all winter, every single day; I'm sure it is. Bah!

That's the greyness speaking. Snow, at least, reflects and whitens the light; rain drowns it. At three in the afternoon, it was too dark to read outside. And we couldn't see the red colouring on the finches; all the birds looked drab grey and muddy black.

I needed to remind myself of sunshine; it exists, even here, even at the tail end of the year. Really. These photos, from the White Rock beach, barely nine days ago, prove it.

Orange dog carefully walking a log.

Common  goldeneye male.

Hello!

Mount Baker, reflecting the light. Look for the two eagles.

Robin's heart on a rock

By the railroad track two rabbits hid in the wild rose thicket until we had passed.

Red canoe and pink sky

Bare branches with crow's nest, turned red-brown by the sinking sun.

The rose hips are plentiful this year.

Folds in a sandstone rock.

Laurie sees a face in this log; I see a sleek otter curled up to sleep inside the scar.

A Skywatch post. 

Wall blogging

A brief comment from Strathcona's mad poet without a blog:

To be able to say
How much you love
is to love but
a Little

Previous offerings: On this thin raft, Stalking Elk, When the world is sick ...

With our backs to the sea

Friday was a sunny day, for a change. We went to our usual spot on Crescent Beach, but in the spirit of change, we turned our back on the water, and explored the weather-beaten logs and weedy banks at the top of the beach. So many colours and textures! So many hidden corners! Here's a sampler:

Dying blackberry leaf

Graffiti on a silvery stump

Old, rotting root wood. Looks like some tortured painting by Van Gogh.

Crane fly. I had never seen one like this, and it wouldn't stand still for even a second. I chased it all over an upturned root of a tree, and then lost it. I think it's a Tiger Crane Fly.

Wild apple or crabapple blossoms

An unidentified plant growing out of dried eelgrass on sand

Lichens

I went around poking the camera into holes in stumps to see what the flash turned up. This was a spider's lair; the entrance was almost two inches across. I couldn't see a spider.

Laurie says this is a red-spined long-tailed salamander. I have my doubts. In a puddle caught by two adjacent logs.

Maple flowers. So tiny, so red!

Just a split stone, on a rotting log. The outside of the stone was nondescript; just a smooth greyish stone.

This was another hole in a stump. We could see the white slime mold, but only discovered the large cup mushroom when we looked at the photo at home.

Split stump. I like the texture, and the caterpillar-y incurled edges of green bark. The black circles are some kind of mold or lichen.

Spirea.

A tiny plant, blowing in the wind. I haven't identified it yet.

Another heart for Clytie.

And we were so engrossed in our pokings into cracks that we ignored the cries of a pair of eagles circling overhead. A man in the lane later told us that there's a web-cam over their nest. I looked for it on the web, and may have found it, at Hancock Wildlife. I think it's Delta #2. We'll look for it in the trees next time we visit.

Slow Pandemonium

Sometimes life feels like that.

Pandemonium


Slow Pandemonium, at that.

Photos from a Strathcona alleyway, last month.
.

And still the void ...

I've got a migraine. This is what it feels like.


Decipher that, if you will. I'm taking an ibuprofen and going to bed.

See you tomorrow!

Do Not Dumb

It's been a long, difficult day. We woke up this morning to discover that the house had been broken into, and our keys, money, ID and car stolen. We've been dealing with police, banks, half-remembered numbers, telephones on hold, repetitions, endless repetitions of the details, and the locksmith. And it's been hot.

In the evening, a long walk around the neighbourhood calmed our spirits. These are photos from that walk.

Hydrangeas peeking through our porch railings.


A garden down the block. Found objects make good supports for the squash vines.


Nobody uses these for records any more.


Knot. Tighter than a square knot, greener than green.


"Do not Dumb". One wishes. (Probably a translation from Cantonese.)


Sunny face.


Overhead, huge fig leaves. This one makes a deep bowl.


Just an old house, warm in the setting sunlight.


Scarlet runner beans, in flower. Growing up a "No Parking" sign.


Outsider art, nailed to a hydro pole. "Hydrate. Eat a fish."


The blackberries are coming along nicely.


These were so sweet and sun-warm!

And, on Facebook, John sent me "Good Karma". Thanks, John. I think we needed that.
.

We have constructed pyramids

There's a mad poet wandering the alleys of Strathcona. He has no blog; he has to write on walls.

"I love the friends I have gathered together on this thin raft."

"We have constructed pyramids in honour of our escaping."

.

Wild night on the town

It's my birthday, and we're partying in Strathcona tonight! Yee-hah!

These photos were taken coming and going from the last party - Grad night.

In a Vancouver alley, half mural, half graffitti.


On the side of a store, at the edge of Strathcona.


Midnight photo, with ambient light. Party in Strathcona, around the corner from my daughter's house.

I'll have more Strathcona pics tonight. Or rather, tomorrow morning.

.