Christmas angel

I went out in the snowstorm (while it lasted) to watch. In a park, I met this snowy angel.

One of the many chainsaw carvings found all around Campbell River.

The lights in the background are headlights. I wasn't the only one out for a drive on Christmas Eve.

More snow photos tomorrow.

Coping with snow

We had snow. Then rain. Then snow. Rain, snow, snow, snow. The sky cleared. I went out this afternoon, and forced the car down the driveway, and along the street, through snow above the bumper line.

Went to buy snow shovel. Had to buy a kid's one; all the stores are sold out of the big ones.

I managed to get down to Tyee Spit just before sundown, and found a flock of mallards, happy in their still-liquid water.

Umpteen mallards, one widgeon.

Showoff! Mallards start their courtship rituals early.

Mallards in the parking lot. They mostly walk on the snow. I sunk through, and ended up with wet feet; it's thawing underneath.

At home, I used the shovel to dig out a parking spot on the street, with the help of a friendly neighbour. (Thanks!) Even packed down after the alternate wetting and freezing, the snow was 10 inches deep. And heavy.

Then I dug my way up to my front door, up a long, steep driveway. Ate a quick supper, and fell sound asleep until midnight. Shovelling snow is hard work!

(Edited to add: the snowplow came by, finally, while I was eating supper. It piled snow up against my car, so I'll have to dig it out again in the morning.)

Long short trip

We had a sudden snowstorm this afternoon: it was rainy and warm at noon, snowing hard by 2:30. It took me just under an hour and a half to come home from the grocery store, usually a 5-minute run. People had been caught by surprise, and all the routes through and around the centre of town were jammed with cars spinning their wheels, waiting their turn. Drivers kept getting out to clean ice off the windshield wipers; it didn't matter, we weren't going anywhere, anyhow.

I took this photo through the window, near city centre. The building to the left is the art gallery.

5:40 PM. The snow is easing off.

"I feel a real spike in energy with this weather," the cashier at the store told me. She'd been out on her break to look at it, and the flakes were big and fat and sticky. Wonderful!

It seems to be a general reaction; everyone was smiling, even as they waded through slush in the parking lot, even as they contemplated a long, slow drive home. Two people told me to be careful out there, but they were smiling as they said it.

Ah, BC! Where else is it an adventure just to pick up a litre of milk?

I had to take 5 runs at my steep driveway, to get off the road where skidding cars could hit me. And then the snow stopped falling.

Random meanderings

The night is calm and clear. No snow, no rain, no wind. Nothing to shovel tomorrow.

My desk is clear; so is the calendar. The bills are paid. The next event is a whole week away.

Let-down time. De-stressing. And I wander around, picking things and ideas up, putting them down, unable to settle.

So here's a collection of random notes and randomly-chosen recent photos.

House finch, at my feeder today.

1. My oldest grand-daughter just announced her engagement. I'm not old enough for that!

Reflection of condominium tower in an office building, Metrotown. A couple of days ago.

2. The "Tumbledown Dairy" we photographed a couple of weeks ago collapsed in the snowstorm. Only the rear part is left standing.

Bench beside our walkway. Freshly upholstered.

3. My grandson gave me a book for Christmas; "Does Anything Eat Wasps?" by New Scientist. It is a collection of short answers to questions posed to the "Last Word" column of the magazine. It's light reading; the perfect bathroom book. I've been reading about how the British Isles are like a teeter-totter (Scotland coming up, England sinking for now), how they get the bubbles in Aero chocolate bars, and how fast the wind has to be blowing to keep the mosquitoes from biting you. (That one, at least, is a useful bit of knowledge in BC.)

And the wasps? I have seen ants eating them, spiders do, too, frogs love them, birds ... What I found unexpected in the book was the story of a crab eating a wasp.

Orchid. Taken in IKEA, on Boxing Day. Not a great shot, but I was surprised that it came out at all.

4. Scruffy the squirrel dropped in today. She is fat! Really, really fat! Her fur is still dull and ratty and missing along the spine, but she bulges all over. It looks like someone has been very generous with food, now that the weather is so bad, and she has been taking full advantage of it.

It's a difficult winter for our wildlife; we feed some because they are cute or pretty, but others have to struggle to survive, in a climate that until now had been kindly. Many won't make it. Huckleberry described the plight of herons, the other day; the photograph of the mourning mate haunts me.

Sofia does Mastermind. Her rules. Last night.

5. I don't make New Year's Resolutions. That way, I don't break them. Good planning, huh?
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Snowed!

Two feet of snow, and more coming. I'm getting quite handy with the shovel.

The weather took our neat plans for Christmas Eve and ripped them to shreds. We were to meet in New Westminster, and travel in a 4-car convoy, in case of trouble. Supper would be around 5:00, in Chilliwack.

Early on, a tow-truck slipped and rammed my grand-daughter's car, leaving it non-operational.  I was closest; I arranged to pick her up. ("At least," I said to myself, "I'll have someone to help with the digging if I get stuck.")

I heard on the news that the highway was closed. But we decided to go ahead; it would probably be fine by the time we got there.

Then another grand-daughter needed to be picked up in English Bay. Fine. Can do.

#1 g-d needed to be on the road earlier, though; she arranged for family coming through from the ferry to pick her up, delaying them by an hour. So supper would be late, but we'd cope.

#2, Auj, phoned to ask to be collected downtown; the buses weren't running, nor were taxis available. OK. Another delay; we split the convoy; my son in New West would wait for Auj and me, the first car would go on ahead.

My car was under a foot of new snow. I paid a kid to shovel it out for me, but I still had to shovel a bit when I left an hour later.

Then it took the better part of an hour just to go a few blocks downtown. It was raining, now, on top of the snow; instead of the usual roar of traffic, I was hearing spinning tires and revving motors. There were few cars actually moving, but fewer cleared streets. Around English Bay, where Auj had to pick up her presents (another delay), most streets had two deep ruts in the snow, no more. I made several runs at one hill, and finally had to back down, and around the corner into a snow bank. On another street, a neighbour had to drop his shovel and push me over a traffic bump.

I told my son that I didn't think I'd make it; I would drop Auj with him, and the "convoy" would be one car only.

Laurie said maybe we could put Auj on the SkyTrain; it would be quicker. But while I waited for her, I heard the news that a tree had fallen on the SkyTrain tracks; it was "temporarily not in service".

It was well past 5 when we got to New West. It was snowing again. The kids had been eating peanut butter sandwiches; they gave Auj a gingerbread cookie. (And Auj remembered that her dessert was still in her fridge. I wasn't about to go back for it.)

I came back home, after over 4 hours spinning the steering wheel. And had to dig myself back into my parking spot through a two-foot retaining wall of hard-packed snow, a contribution from the side-walk shovellers. I fried up a sausage for Christmas dinner. I was too tired to do veggies.

My son's car load arrived in Chilliwack a bit before 8. He said the last hour was "white-knuckle" driving.

I phoned to see if everyone was safe; my son-in-law told me everything was fine, if chaotic. "It's good chaos, though," he said.

How fortunate we are! Even getting to the party is an adventure! Even when we don't make it! Getting home in one piece is an accomplishment to be proud of! Yay, winter!

Crow's nest. Also snowed in.

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Beautiful. But...

... deadly.

It snowed all day yesterday. There was no hope of getting the car on the road, so I went for a walk in the snowstorm.

Prepared for the fun to come.

Branch dumping its load of snow.

Just before dawn this morning, I went out again.

Palest hint of pink.

Tree lace.

Still sleeping.

It was tough walking, over mostly unshovelled streets, but I kept going until the sun was fully up.

Then I dug out the car. The snow was knee-deep on this narrow street. I had to use a broom; my daughter has no shovel. (Now she has no useful broom, either.)

Sensible people were walking, not driving.

I drove back to Delta, rocked the car into a parking space, rocked it out, went Christmas shopping with Laurie, rocked the car back in, and out, and came back to Strathcona after dark.

I had to dig myself back into a parking space. At least, this time, Laurie had made sure I had a shovel in the trunk.

Delicate weed.

I ache.

I am going to bed.

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Snow Day

It snowed most of the day, starting with tiny, almost dust-size flakes, ending with a fast dump of 4 or 5 inches of heavy clumps.

1:55 PM

Then it stopped, and the sun came out and melted everything it reached.

3:05 PM.

Dormant hydrangea.

Poor shivering junco!

We are having crazy weather. They keep telling us, day in and day out, that it is going to rain, and it doesn't. But on the brightest, driest days, it freezes hard. Today it was warmer, and raining steadily. We went shopping and the rain stopped. Good. But coming out of the second store, we found that it was snowing. 10 minutes later it was raining again. Back at home, one of the cars in the parking lot was topped with several inches of snow. The rest of us were rain-washed.

Looks like whoever's in charge of booking our weather-makers has been doing his scheduling with a dart board again.

This photo was taken during the snowstorm we had a week and a half ago; a fuzzy photo due to the falling snow. A junco huddles under the rhododendron, looking wet and cold.

First winter for this squirrel, I see

It is snowing hard. Our first real snowfall of the year; yesterday's was just a dusting.

As soon as the cold weather sets in, I step up my provision of bird seed. Yesterday, instead of the half-dozen or so juncos I usually see, I had a regular flock of them. I threw out a small handful of peanuts onto the bare cement under the roof, to give them something extra to ride out the cold on.

This morning, besides the juncos, chickadees, and the pair of nuthatches that are always here, I saw a Jenny wren and a very large sparrow-like bird that flew away as soon as my shadow showed up at the window. And, of course, one of the black squirrels that live in the cedars.

I replenished the feed, adding plenty of peanuts. Since it was snowing hard, I threw a couple of handfuls under the hedge, where there is shelter from the snow.

And this squirrel promptly showed up to collect peanuts.

Under the hedge, nibbling on a peanut. Snow falling heavily all around.

Watching him (really, looking out for that large unidentified bird), I realized what he was doing. He was collecting peanuts and taking them out into the snow to bury them.

In the snow. Not underground. Just in the snow; I checked.

Here he is, "burying" one on the 4x4 board that encloses the flower bed areas.

Another one successfully buried on (not in) the perennial bed.


And in a flower pot.

I gather he's never had any experience with snow. Imagine his amazement in a couple of days when it starts to rain and all his carefully buried peanuts are once again out where the birds will get them!

And this one, just because I liked it. I think that's the last stalk of the astilbe. With squirrel tracks.

Alternate Universe photos

Among my favourite photos are some real oddballs; indefinable, indescribable. Photos from odd angles, weird reflections, optical illusions, unforseen accidents and the effects of the general contrariness of things. Back when I kept them all in hard copy, I put them in an album that I called "Alternate Universes".

And they are just too good, sometimes, to keep to myself. So I'll post them here, periodically, under that same title: Alternate Universe Photos.

This first one was taken from the balcony during a snowstorm. Branches of a tree, sky, and distant evergreens, with snowflakes in front. The camera is on automatic focus, but the falling snow in the foreground threw it off, so it produced an impressionist painting instead, reminding me of a snippet of some half-forgotten painting, Monet perhaps, or Renoir.

It puzzles me, though. First off, I always thought snowflakes were supposed to look like snowflakes; separate hexagonal stars or clusters arranged loosely in a flattish formation, like the large ones I often see falling slowly in a heavy snowstorm. Not snowballs. But that's what showed up on the film. Round, heavy-looking balls.

Look at the second photo, taken in a previous snowfall. Same thing: snowballs.

Second; what I see in this top photo is the neck and shoulders of a woman in a brown dress and wearing a white necklace, seen through an etched glass jar with white polka dots on the top section.

Laurie doesn't see that at all. How about you? What do you see?

Juncos Coping

"Who hid my bath?"

These photos turned out a bit fuzzy; the snow was too bright, and the junco just wouldn't stand still. But they were just too good to hide, anyhow.



The first is a junco on the birdbath last week, the day of that big snowstorm. At the highest point, I measured 18 inches of snow on that bath.



Next, a junco (the same, or another, I don't know) just coming out of the birdhouse. You have to look closely to find the house; it has been knocked on its back by the snow. That's the peak of the roof, at the bottom of that pile of snow. Luckily, I don't think any birds had decided to use the house for sleeping, just as a perch.


Here's a female on the fuschia, wondering where the daylight went.

BC Lower Mainland Snowstorm; the day after

About 18 inches of snow fell on this area of the Fraser River delta last week. It is raining again, as is usual for December, so the photos soon will be the only reminder left, apart from huge mountains of grungy scrapings in the mall parking lots.

First; an overview from our balcony. Early morning, before the sun appeared.

Looking towards the west.

Snow on a shrub, making faces and beasties.

Blue skies with the sunrise. Odd how the colour mix changes, so that the same trees now look darker.

And finally, in my garden, a visiting elf, in a 1940s coat and hat. (No, there is nobody there usually, nor is it a walkway; just a space between two trees.) Proof that --- well, proof of something, anyway!