Eerie

 It's all in how you look at it. Could be an alien sky with a cluster of flying alien life. Could be UFOs pouring out of a wormhole against a cloudy night sky on our planet. (Hope they're friendly!) Could be ... Fire up your imagination.

What is it?

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They're nudibranch eggs on the back wall of an aquarium tank.

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¿Y esto, qué será? Puede ser unas criaturas voladores en un planeta extraterrestre. Puede ser un ovni (objeto volador no identificado) en nuestro propio planeta, invasores alienígenas saliendo de un puente de Einstein-Rosen (agujero de gusano) contra un cielo nocturno. (¡Ojalá vengan en paz!)

¿Qué crees? Usa tu imaginación.

Foto: huevos de nudibranquio en la pared de fondo en un tanque del acuario.

Did I say nobody was home? Wrong!

Just a friendly tree at Roberts Lake ...

"Hi, friend! Make yourself at home!"

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Un árbol muy amable, al lado del lago. "¡Hola, amiga! Bienvenida! Estás en tu casa.

"

Hoppers and a jumper below the dam

Last week, I was travelling with my granddaughter. She's as crazy as I am, and more energetic. (I seem to be slowing down as the years mount up. Funny how that works!)

In a simple day trip to Gold River and back, we stopped along the way to clamber through the bush to look at the back of the beaver lodge, to take photos of spiders in the hardhack and shelf fungi on the trees, to look at birds at Strathcona Park Lodge, to chase grasshoppers at Strathcona Dam, to climb a rock face beside a waterfall, to look at flamingos in Two Boat Pond, to try out newly-carved animal seats, and to chase crows at the Gold River docks. It was raining as we headed home; otherwise, I'm sure we would have stopped a couple more times.

I have tons* of photos to sort and process. These are from the campsite below Strathcona Dam.

Dam sign.

Text of sign:

You are standing below the largest hydroelectric dam on Vancouver Island. Strathcona Dam is part of the Campbell River Hydroelectric System which includes the Ladore and John Hart developments and the Salmon River, Heber River, and Quinsam River diversions.
Strathcona was the last dam completed on the Campbell River Development project. This 53 meter high earth-filled dam created Upper Campbell Lake, a 48 kilometer long reservoir for water storage. The water that flows through this dam will drop over 200 meters, passing through three generating stations, Strathcona, Ladore, and John Hart, before it reaches the ocean. As you drive towards Campbell River, you will pass near two other reservoirs, Lower Campbell Lake created by Ladore Dam, and John Hart Reservoir created by John Hart dam. This major project was started in 1945 and took  over 13 years to complete.

The campground, with the dam looming over it, has 11 overnight free campsites and large areas for day parking. When we arrived, there was almost no space left to park; cars and trailers and RVs were everywhere; it was the long weekend. It seems that no-one worries about the mass of water ready to drop on you. Signs warn visitors to clear the water and river banks if a siren sounds; water will be rushing down the spillway. The backwaters were alive with kids in rubber boats; the geese I've seen on other visits were in hiding.

We wandered around the weedy area between parking lots. First find: a humongous jumping spider. Or so it seems.

About 25 meters long. As advertised on the campground map.

And then there was the grasshopper. We chased him and his family for quite some time.

It's hard to sneak up on a grasshopper on bare gravel.

But we tried. Pop can half tab included to show size. (I moved it on the photo; it was a couple of inches away.)

Trying to blend in on a mossy rock. And still aware of us; with the next leap, we lost him.

Lichen and moss on a rock. At least it stays put.

More lichen and moss.

Bladder campion, Silene vulgaris, going to seed.

Nearly one o'clock, and we were hungry. Next stop, Strathcona Park Lodge.

*tons. Of photos. Digital. So not really tons. But you know what I mean.

Dancer

With a lichen skirt.

Apple tree, Oyster Bay Shoreline Park.

Double double

Speeding past Lake Roberts on the highway a few miles north of Campbell River, drivers catch a glimpse of blue water, bits of sky behind the trees. I took the side road instead, down almost at the water level, and was fascinated by the reflections from that angle.

Clear, still water. Mount Menzies in the background.

Another angle. A stand of deciduous trees makes a spear point.

Faces and insects and maybe a spider?

At the far end of the lake, even a wisp of mist is reflected. And a couple of people in a boat.

The sunny end of the lake. More odd shapes. I see a butterfly, a beaver, a dragonfly, and a doll with her hair on end.

Looking down; three-way reflections.

Heron shoes

This is making me laugh every time I walk past.

I bought this wooden heron in a garage sale many years ago, and he has been standing in my garden year round, with his feet in the mud, sheltering slugs. Last year, his feet broke off at the ankles, rotted through. I cut them down a bit, and replaced them in the base.

A couple of weeks ago, his ankles gave out again, and the wood base is rotten, too. He'll need a new one. While I'm finding the right material, I've been touching up his paint job and giving him a few coats of polyurethane.

I cast about for some way to keep him standing while his paint dried and finally found these tarp clamps which fit his legs perfectly, without wobbling.

But he does look strange.

Prosthetic feet?

Or Arabian Nights slippers, curly toesies, and all!

(Maybe I should just paint the new shoes, glue on some beadwork, and call it a day.)

Coffee break

I stopped for coffee in a beach shack with a plank and plywood lean-to for shelter from the weather. In spite of the sunshine, the wind was chilly, and there was a roaring fire in an airtight stove in the lean-to; every seat was taken.  I took my coffee and walked down the shore, scrambling over piles of driftwood and rolling stones, holding a camera and a hot coffee cup.

Loose rocks, with tiny snails that I tried not to step on.

And there are snails here, too. Click for the full size view.

Critter art. A sunrise over the water and hills, carved by mining beetles. 

Green-eyed monster, trapped in a log jam.

The coffee was good, too.

A few more garden delights

And June's not over yet!

Hydrangeas, close up, look like water-colour paintings.

And roses look like roses. One of these days, they'll figure out how to transmit scent over the web. So sweet!

I was kneeling on our excuse for a lawn, taking photos of a buttercup (too vibrantly yellow, too glossy, too dancing-in-the-wind happy for my camera) when a baby leafhopper dropped out onto a leaf below.

Leafhopper nymph, almost completely colourless. Against drying moss, with a few spare blades of grass.

Passion fruit flower. Or is it a visiting mini-ship from outer space, parked in a neighbour's garden? Or just Ma Nature using up leftovers from beetle production?

Tomorrow: anther unexpected beastie in my tank.

Tis the Season

And may it be a merry one!

Round the mini-tree.

(That's a Douglas fir cone, acorn caps, salt, and those little plastic joke marbles with wobbly magnets inside.)

And I'm signing off for a few days. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Ready for snow

One of my household mascots, dressed for winter.

"Hi, I'm Burl, and I'm tired of rain!"

Mini-burl or gall, stones, acorn caps, and a new scarf.

(Some people make art; I just glue stuff together when the mood strikes.)

Colour morph

Because it's Hallowe'en!

Spiky, leggy, fang-y.

Trapped in the rocks

Walking along the Crescent Beach shore at high tide last week, I stopped often to look at the rocks. They've been dumped here to support the railway that runs just above the beach; I don't know where they originated. Not all from the same place, it seems, because they can be anything from soft sandstones to hard granite. They may be grey, black, brown, or white; solid colours or broken up with veins in green or white, spotted or striped, round or sharp-edged. Like live things, there are no two alike.

And I tried, I really tried, to see them as rocks with their own story, without adding layers from my own silly imagination on top. And then I looked at the photos at home, and the trapped rock dwellers showed up. Here are two of them. (Laurie saw them, too, without me pointing them out. So they must be real, right?)

Conglomerate, with woman wearing lipstick. (That's the real colour of the rock; I didn't add it.)

Textured sandstone, with long-nosed critter just leaving his bed.

Ok. 'Nuff silliness. I'll be sensible tomorrrow.

Yodelling cat . . .

. . . erpillar.

Ay-Ee-Oooo!

This caterpillar is pretty amazing! No, not for the yodelling; it's what else he's been up to. I'm working on a post, with video, to be ready in a day or two.

Fabulous Flying Fairies

Beach peas are among my favourite flowers, and they're especially colorful at this time of year; later blooms are more pink than purple.

These are the first crop, already setting seed. No wonder they're so prolific!

Purple flowers, maroon buds, and red seed pods.

Buds and a curly tendril

These look like the backs of little flying women, each wearing a pink headscarf. Fairies, maybe?