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Showing posts from September, 2020

Snowy Speculations

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If I could paint, I would have tried to replicate the landscape very early this morning. Illuminated by the faintest hints of light and hours before sunrise, the cold, stark landscape lay completely still in its snowy blanket. Naked trees stood proudly and quietly against this backdrop, this palate of pure white an unforgiving place for any creature, big or small, to attempt to cross without drawing attention to its existence at this time. Even our ancient tire swing looked sleepy and droopy, suspended precariously close to the ground, as if the effort of hanging from a tree limb was too much for it. To the east, the only rays of light visible were the ones coming from the across the river, and even those seem hushed and muffled, like a child tired and murmuring not to wake them up just yet.  The young families down the road have gone all out with Christmas lights this year. Bright colours adorn the night skies and my neighbours even have a Christmas Cat and a Christmas Dinosaur that i

Jay Walkers

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 As I was driving down Concession 1 this week, I had to slam on my brakes at the last second as a few  Guinea Fowl crossed the road directly in front of me, oblivious to how close they came to grazing the eternal fields! It was mid morning and these three were off strolling about the countryside, without a care in the world. Maybe someone should remind them that Thanksgiving is only a few weeks away? Known for their infamous alarm call, I was surprised to note that they turned a blind eye to me as I tried to get a few photos on my phone before they quietly disappeared into the vineyard. Their beautifully speckled feathers shone in the sun and I could only admire them from afar. According to Wikipedia, the hens are larger than the males. These birds do not get along well with chickens. They are not chickens, as most people believe, but are in fact gamebirds. If you go online, there are so many stories about how Guinea Fowl do not like to be confined. They are also supposed to be fantast

Potted Toads

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  Potted Toads This time of year brings straw-like grass that crackles and crunches as you walk over it.  The shrill call of the cicadas in the trees, dying vegetation in the gardens and the hot afternoon sun, all indicate that summer is coming to a gradual end. Labour Day weekend is here and school, as strange and unchartered as it will be, is resuming in days. I had just finished a walk around our property, something that soothes me, as I dead-headed a few plants, picked a few tomatoes that had ripened considerably throughout the day and watered anything that seems to be wilting. As I turned on the hose that extends from the pool area, I noted that there was a row of several flowerpots filled with dirt that I had never gotten around to filling with annuals. Something always seemed to get in the way of completing that simple task.  So after I watered the garden and my pop-up pumpkin patch, I lugged each pot individually to the edge of the forest and emptied the dirt there so that I co

Bird Banger Alarm Clocks

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  Bird Banger Alarm Clocks My daughter and her friend were walking down the Heritage Trail on Concession 1 mid-afternoon last week, when her friend suddenly jumped out of her skin, covered her ears and yelled, "What was that?" My daughter had been chattering about something nonchalantly and had looked at her friend in puzzlement, until, a moment later,   the shots fired again and her friend ducked in sheer terror.  Sigh ... city slickers. What seemed to invoke fear and trembling in my daughter's friend, was of no significance to my daughter. This example clearly demonstrates how easily humans get used to something and how resilient children are. Our youngest was four when we moved into this house. Kilometres away from Inniskillin Wines and literally almost kitty-corner to a small cottage winery, hearing air cannons shooting off their warnings to the swarms of birds that like to raid the vines before the farmers get a chance to harvest the grapes at this time of year, h