Writing under a Montreal sky
It’s snowing properly today and it almost certainly will be “ a White Christmas” I have a visitor staying with me for a few days. My dear niece, Katy, is here from Greece.
She was so kind when I was in Kefalonia, it was a pleasure to have her here in Montreal
Christmas Eve service and carol sing tomorrow night and then Christmas Day with Helen and her lovely family. Thankful for good health and to be living in my beloved country of Canada.
Merry Christmas all!
It was a pretty torturous travel itinerary from Vancouver Island to Montreal on the 15/16 th. I know, I know … winds off the island made take off difficult. I was rewarded with some beautiful shots over the Strait of Georgia though.
A lovely sky. Getting out of Vancouver was no easy feat. And who knew the meal vouchers don’t include a drink which I certainly needed to while away the many hours before I finally got on a plane to my home town. I mean how much Duolingo can I do? However, finally sitting safe and sound in my home is a blessing. I miss the green of the Island though.
Now, get stuck into Christmas card writing ! Yes, I’m that old! Love sending and getting them.
next to the Strait of Georgia. Someone put up a few little signs for walkers to find
I’ve seen wild trees decorated along here in the past too but never quite so ambitious as this one
It’s so lovely to see little baby trees springing up from what looks like dead wood!
The biggest hopeful touch for me was a little blue parting what feels like endless cloud here on the island.
Gotta have damp, I guess!
Yes he really was right across the Oyster River as I went for my noon walk. This picture is a bit fuzzy as I had to crop it. I took it just in time as he soon spread his wings and flew up the river away from the sea. You would never seen him here in the summer. Too many people about! The sea was absolutely calm and some seals were playing, slapping their fins and tails but they were too far away for pictures.
Also known as Christmas Rose although they have nothing to do with roses.
I couldn’t find a single bush with berries.
Yo hurry up with my walk as the weather would not last! It is lasting “ mum effect”?
Perhaps not the best trail for an evening walk!
I had to return to the island a bit unexpectedly…. Family business. Whenever I see this sculpture in the city airport I feel reassured! This trip always reminds me of how huge our country is. Flying over vast expanses of black with a few dots of light around a lake here and there only emphasizes the scale of our home. There was no hop on flight until the next morning so I had to sleep overnight close to the airport.
This is winter, right?
It is unbelievably quiet here! Lots of time for writing… ok, ok, blogs are writing too!
But green life springing up too!
Enjoy your kind of winter, whatever it is.
He came trotting down the path towards me and as soon as he noticed me, dived into the bushes. I had never seen one in Angrignon Park before. Sorry the picture isn’t better but trust me, his bushy tail was lovely!
On Thursday I was out in Angrignon Park and I spotted a cardinal.
While I was trying to get a good shot ( and failing!) I was being dive bombed and harassed by chickadees! I decided the next day to bring bird seed. In the past these cheeky birds have eaten from my hand in the park. I figured they must be preparing for winter, stocking up!
However, yesterday I was disappointed that not a single bird sang, chirped or rustled a leaf, I didn’t have much hope today and after my first turn around the lake I was almost resigned to going home without seeing any of these masked cuties.
However, I decided to try one last spot off the trail. Well, it turns out these babies don’t just want you to shake the seed box, or even open it, or call them with a ridiculous imitation of their call. There was not a sign of a bird until I poured seeds into my hand and then … whoops there they were
Turns out they like the sunflower seeds best although with their little beaks I was amazed they could swallow them down.
A Nuthatch! He was bigger than the chickadees but more timid. They certainly liked the seeds from my hand but some of them visited the container too, standing on the rim and chasing each other off!
I stood there until my hand was pretty cold, now I know where and how, I’ll be back, I hope they will too, little bandits! And my favourite, too, the Nuthatch,
Although we’re still above freezing here in Montreal high winds and rain on Halloween night meant that most of the trees are bare. Not all…
of last week looks like she’s ready to join the crowd.
One thing that bare branches allow one to notice are the distinct messy leaf nests of squirrels and something else
I remember taking an empty one to school in a tin can for a botany/ biology class. I thought the nun would praise my enterprising spirit in bringing a real example of nature’s wonders. Unfortunately in the time it took to take it to school some sort of chemical reaction took place in the air tight can and upon opening it we were all treated to the most powerful and unpleasant stench.
“Miss Cunningham! Get rid of that thing!” The janitor had a good laugh I remember.
Pull out your gloves, people. There may be no wasps around but winter winds can sting too!
There were plans for this birthday but nature had other ideas. It poured with rain all day and a high wind caused the electricity to cut out. My beloved grandchildren had arranged to come over with a birthday cake and to sleep over. With no lights, and no stove it might have been atmospheric but we all finally agreed to postpone the party.
They will come tomorrow and that will be lovely.
I could not resist this festive setting though. Every year on my birthday my daughter, Elizabeth sends me flowers. How welcome are these lovely blooms just as the year turns on this special day.
Gold in the gutter
The hour, the golden hour has come
For you to flutter, for you to fall.
Your song becomes a stutter, a cry.
The others lie though they too were so proud against the sky.
Gold and high but no more can they fly the flag of beauty.
Gold in the gutter
Once green, lush
A sign of life, renewal
The hours, cruel hours rolled
Clocks have chimed, bells have tolled.
Now became your when.
How green changed hue. Now still gold on blue,
Still hanging on the branch
This day a chance, a little gasp, one grasp of an Autumn day
So soon gold in the gutter.
and doggies eating patiently for their walker to get it together at the entrance to my local park. One big black fellow ( just out of sight) wanted so much to get acquainted but his business-like walker soon put a stop to that . “ He jumps up and I can’t be responsible for any injury.” She was right I suppose but doggie and I exchanged a mournful glance and off I went.
that brought down many leaves but the temperature was still mild. We’ve been enjoying a sort of enchanted fall this year with lovely colours and mild temperatures.
I awoke to a temperature of 4 degrees this morning. Even the geraniums must come in now.
Was it only a few months ago that I saw an elderly gentleman standing , half-dressed in this pond on an infernally hot and humid day?
Canadians have the reputation of being moderate and reasonable people. Perhaps we cultivate these qualities in the face of a climate that is anything but.
near my home, a mystery. While autumn is well underway with its special beauty
One tree among all the others pretends it is summer
But one stalwart clings, instead, to the color of life. It looks like an ordinary maple but there is something extraordinary about it.
Drop a note
but not quite over as I rashly decided to make a run for it. What really seems to be over is the magic/ spooky summer that just wouldn’t go away.
I set off to train on the toboggan hill today. It was humid with a mixed sky. After being spoiled for so many weeks I trusted the patch of blue over the ominous thundercloud. I bet on the wrong horse- patch of sky that is. No sooner had I done my measly four up and down the hill than it began to spit rain. I made for a nearby bus shelter where I spent one hour listening on my phone, transfixed by Dylan Thomas.
I love Walt Whitman for his excesses of language. I had forgotten about Thomas who is just as tripping, trailing and terrorizingly over the top. I had neglected to cancel an introductory offer on Amazon music and last night managed to persuade a very polite and accommodating employee to give me a few freebies before I pulled the plug. The BBC recordings of Thomas and Richard Burton reading lots of Thomas’ work was one I chose.
As the rain poured down I listened, entranced, to parts of Under Milk Wood that I had forgotten.
Rain teemed down, busses stopped and left, my clothes almost dried out. When I noticed that an hour had passed in the company of Thomas’ all too believable fantastic characters, I resolved to watch for a slack-off of the deluge.
As if by magic the rain tapered off to a few lazy drops….. only to tamp down again as soon as I got a block away from my bus shelter. I could hear old Dylan chuckling overhead. “I told you to take an umbrella” the chant of every Welshman from here to Llanfair…. echoed in my dripping eardrums.
The wind blew and I was chilly in my now soaking wet clothes. Another bus shelter loomed but the heavens relented and I was able to continue on home. A hot shower and a “ nice cup of tea” set me up for a cosy afternoon
Good thing, I suppose. The other day I was explaining what “ conkers” are to my grandkids. It doesn’t translate well into French somehow.
Our home and native land …. Or autumn fantasy
After a chat with a hearing aid dealer in Verdun, one of my favorite “ down home” Montreal neighborhoods, I decided to walk home. Her verdict , “you can hear but you can’t understand” was rather discouraging and , putting it down perhaps to a translation issue, I decided to walk and brood my way home. It is rather a long way – 7 to 8 km but it was warm and I was treated to some beauty.
But since they are favorites of my daughter in B.C. I could not resist.
that separates Verdun from LaSalle there were Canada geese having a cool down. I wonder when the will fly off. It’s so warm (23 degrees yesterday) that they must be a bit confused like most of us.
Google maps led me straight through Angrignon Park where some trees are into fall and some aren’t.
I suppose it was a pretty long walk so I was tired and went to bed early. The result being that I woke up even before the morning started rose.
I made an ernest effort to go back to bed later with the usual result of extremely vivid dreams. This time I didn’t mind because they were about corgis! I shall have to look that up in the dream book!
In my neighborhood park some uniformed animal staff were armed with huge nets. They caught this cormorant who was holed up in the roots of my favourite willow tree. The “ chief “ was a chatty type who explained that the bird was exhausted from coughing and they were going to take him to a sanctuary in hopes of curing him.
To requests for help with wild birds or animals. I always think of cormorants as being sea birds but …. The expert told me they live close to all sorts of water.
It was such a lovely day that I even went to the other park. – the one with the toboggan hill!
It certainly feels steeper as I toil up and down.
A little spark tells me the Camino Finisterre is in my future! Can’t stick to the flat all the time. We’ll see if I can persist. Come on ! Encourage me!
these surprised me by being pure white! When I walk in my neighborhood park I often take a shortcut through a leafy lane rather than sticking to the paved paths. This little tree is overshadowed by lots of green foliage so I guess it doesn’t get enough light. It’s a strange sight amid all the yellow, brown and red of the season.
In among the drab leaves this one who gets top marks for trying. But….he let go a little early.
I know it’s just someone’s discarded mirror. It gave me a beautiful perspective on my corner of town.
Keep noticing! Every day is full of surprises!
At the end of summer
I started to wake very early.
I sat on an old chaise-lounge
next to the patio door.
At about five-thirty the big star
would start to climb above the nearby rooftops.
Nearby, and yet so far, so far away.
Brilliant and large it slowly climbed
up the dark sky while I checked my mail
or did my puzzles. The real puzzle was
why that star loved me so on early mornings of late summer,
I looked up often, tracking its course
as it glittered down on me, drawing me into
the soft day.
Below it an expanse of pearl or rose lightened up
as it became smaller, fainter and then left me
to the tender care of my day.
I was glad I had taken a rather delicate pair of potted plants in last night as the temperature fell to 4 degrees. No frangipani can be happy in that zone! Some trees leap right into the blaze of red that we Canadians are so proud of.
I’ve been busy in the museum lately preparing for the opening of a big show – Kent Monkman. It is a bit daunting for an old white straight woman to guide such a show but I’m learning and am ready to do my best. Some of the training sessions have been very revealing and touching as we explore the story of Canada and its dark history with First Nations. I’m curious to see the reactions of visitors.
I love the reeds on the edge of the pond too as their feathery tops sway in a chilly breeze.
We used to call them as they came out around September 29. ( or November 8 in the Eastern churches). The tradition was one was supposed to cook a goose on that day but I guess we’ll wait until Thanksgiving for that.
on the little tree close to my home.
Even the “ shademaster” trees that I snub because of their “ trademark” status, are turning a soft shy yellow. No doubt, it’s almost here. That lemon tree in the pot will have to come in next and …. let’s start planning a winter escape!
Decades ago my Dad brought us here. This is the lake in the crater of a long- ago volcano on Mont St Hilaire. It lies beyond the Richelieu River to the South-East of Montreal. With a new job as supervisor of all the buildings and grounds of McGill University, this and many acres of surrounding mountain was part of my father’s responsibility. It made a great impression on me when he told me how the lake had been formed.
I don’t own a car by choice so coming out here is not frequent excursion. I discovered the day-trip option of SEPAQ however and happily jolted along in an old bus with a group of other hiking enthusiasts. Besides offering chalets for family stays, the NANA division (Navet a la Nature sic) offers day transport and access to nature in a way that uses communal transport. Quite a bargain too!
My Dad was beside me in spirit as I hiked up the paths to a lookout on a spot called Sugar Loaf
The trail was pretty rocky but encouraged by a family of youngsters I persevered and sat to have a picnic lunch.
Some spots were pretty worn from a full summer of visitors and I was glad of my hiking pole. I had carelessly left one in a Metro car a few weeks earlier and never replaced it. Maybe that was why a gentle skid to a surprise sitting position livened things up a bit. No harm done.
At the pleasant visitor centre, I enjoyed a coffee with another hiker. It was a lovely peaceful day that brought back fond memories and made new ones!
I’ve always loved writing my blog but now, with a book publishing deal signed ( yes, you read right) I figured it was time to learn how to manipulate my own website. A very patient young man at a city library led three people “of a certain age” through some of the mysteries of this wonderful form of communication.
And … for the first time. How to steer, raise the wheels, cruise, navigate, and lower the wheels without crashing the whole contraption!
Halls throat sweets are my go-to stress relief for some reason. I consumed almost a whole package during the afternoon’s final class.
Anyway old friends will notice I managed to include a page for published works . So go have a peek in there. Makes a change from my usual drooling over nature.
Speaking of….it really feels like fall now. Lovely and cool but the afternoons a little shorter and a few brilliant leaves appear. Enjoy it folks. We know what’s coming.
Busy weekend ahead – hiking tomorrow and my bro’s birthday party on Sunday. Stay posted for good news.
I’m in the dark about creating a website but…I’m learning – so they tell me! My long-suffering readers will have to put up with a few experiments until it’s done. Bear with me.
All around Vancouver Island are smaller islands. I. Never think about them much when I am at home in Montreal . They are beautiful and a joy to visit. You get there by various ferries and navigating the schedules and connections can be tricky.
live out here and it is wonderful to drive on narrow roads that lead to provincial parks where only walking is allowed. A short hike through ferns and forest leads to a high bluff where we can enjoy views of the sea
I will miss this place.
And that’s how you know fall is coming. Sure it was hot on my long walk today on the driftwood beach. But the signs are there. It’s light a little later in the morning. The Sturgeon moon has come and gone. Fall is coming.
Yesterday my daughter and I went for a walk in Strathcona National Park up on Mount Washington. She has been dealing with a couple of health problems lately so I was happy to hear her suggest this outing.
This sign at the trailhead was not very encouraging. I have a bit of a phobia of bears. However, I gulped and set off behind her as she airily reassured me that we just had to say “Hi Bear” and look the fuzzy one in the eye and he would disappear into the woods. I had no idea black bears were so antisocial.
The ground was covered with wild flowers. I am out of my depth here as I am not at all familiar with the native flowers.A few useful markers here and there gave me hints.
But they are still lovely to me
We walked along a sort of boardwalk because some of the ground was boggy.
It was cool and cloudy at times but nature made up for that today with warmer temperatures and a lovely sky down by the beach
Where did your name come from?
Couldn’t resist this prompt. I am a “ boomer”, born after my Dad came home from the Second World War. My parents already had a seven year old boy, my brother Andrew. They were happy to welcome a girl into the family.
My Dad was of Irish descent and my mother had converted to Roman Catholicism while he was fighting in the War. She developed a devotion to St Francis of Assisi and St Clare, his counterpart.
It was decided that my name should be Clare. At the time in Britain parents had to register a child within a month of the birth. My parents left this task until the last day and my mother sent my Dad off on the bus to get the task completed.
When he came back she was relieved to see the certificate in his hand. Imagine her surprise, however, when she saw that he had registered me as Isobel! At first she thought he had made a mistake and taken the wrong certificate but, no, the date and names of parents were correct.
He coolly announced that he had changed his mind in the bus. Didn’t she think Isobel was a better name? This story was always told as an example of how unpredictable my father was. I used to laugh and like the quirky idea of him looking out of the window of the bus and being struck by inspiration.
When I had girls of my own, however, I understood that perhaps my mother had not been so charmed by this “ surprise “
And far off the mainland
An old friend, a weathered stump
All about texture today
And off to the coffee shop at the corner!
This evening we went for a walk on the beach. This beach is quite close to my daughter’ s home. I often walk here but tonight after watering the lot, we hopped in the car and went for a quick paddle. It had been quite windy and so the waves were a bit high.
but this is not the Pacific, after all. It was very hot today ( for this part of the world). I am always surprised that more people are not in the sea in the evenings.
This is from last night. I can’t write about this yet as o may have a surprise to divulge soon
isobelmtl 