Shifting territory

The park where Shadow-dog and I often walk is an interesting place. Early in the last century, people mined into the river bank below it for coal to heat their homes, so there were a few coal mines in the ravine under the tennis courts near McNally School. They've been sealed off for years, and though I remember seeing boarded up areas in the ravine as a kid, I'm not sure how easy it is to find the tunnels anymore. Even if you could find them, they're definitely not safe enough to visit!

From above, it's not too hard to tell where they once were -- just look for rolling, humpy territory toward the edges of the park. The landscape is shifting, and for the past twenty years or so, the City has had to adjust bike paths and put in monitors to keep track of the slumping areas of the riverbank.

Every spring, a few more trees and bushes seem to slide down the side of the hill, and this year is no exception. With the snow-melt, it appears that good sections of the lost coal mines must have collapsed even further, and it's interesting to see how the edge of the cliff is shifting.

A few more of my favourite black balsam trees have fallen from the edge and slid down a few feet, leaving a pretty sharp drop. It makes me wonder how much further the collapse will reach into the park. There used to be a fair bit of space between the soccer/football area and the ravine edge for families to sit and watch games, but the area is getting narrower every year.

I grew up with this park looking quite different, with a curvy bike path travelling its edge, and a lot of flat field. Now the chain link fences are showing signs of marching into the ravine with some of the trees. 

One thing's sure -- it's probably not a good idea to walk along the edge on wet days, or you might find yourself riding shifting territory...

right down to the bottom with the caution signs!

Nature definitely has a way of filling in gaps and creating something new and different in the process!

Mother Earth's entertainment

Lately, our home has been graced by a very special "guest greeter," a small squirrel who sits on our front step with folded hands and observes visitors who come up the front walk -- until I unwittingly open the front door to let them in and scare the little critter away.

Mother Earth provides us with so much more entertainment than we realize. On my morning walk today, there was another squirrel way up on top of a spruce tree, throwing down pine cones. I stood at the foot of the tree, wondering how long it would take the squirrel to land one of his prizes on my head. They were flying fast and furious, bouncing down branches, and Shadow-pup was quite confused about where they were coming from.

But the most interesting entertainment of all came in the dead of night last week, when Lee and I were awakened by an almost unearthly, blood-curdling howl outside our bedroom window. My immediate reaction was that something had frightened Shadow or he was having a nightmare and yowling in his sleep, but where was he? Snuggled into bed with Julia, blissfully unaware. Lee jumped up, went to our window and saw a coyote on the neighbour's lawn under our oak tree, howling his or her heart out. Not the nicest lullabye, but pretty cool all the same, especially when we realized that there was a whole chorus of coyotes singing back up vocals in the distance.

From the antics of magpies to the flight of a bumblebee, Mother Earth's creatures are ready to entertain us whenever we open our eyes (and ears) to her.When was the last time nature entertained you?

The power of a river, of love

The city has vanished today, it's snowing that hard. I know it's there on the other side of a wall of whiteness, but it's not possible to see the skyscrapers across the river, never mind three blocks down the road.

Shadow and I took just a short walk this morning. I decided to let him follow his nose, and was surprised when his nose turned homeward even sooner than I expected, probably because the windchill was reaching -29 C (-20 F). By mid-afternoon, the white stuff was up to the pup's chest, and it's supposed to continue snowing until noon tomorrow. 30 cm (12 in) was predicted, and I think we've got that already.

So it may be a while before Shadow and I can return to our favourite walks along and in the river valley. I'm glad we took the valley trails last week and on the weekend. If you remember, last Thursday we found a lovely rebel bike trail and were able to walk along a mostly frozen expanse of the North Saskatchewan where it takes a fairly tight turn. I told Lee about the walk that evening, and suggested we walk it together on Saturday.

The next day was warm and sunny, and everything began to melt. Grass started showing in our back yard, and the dog got so mucky from walking in puddles that I had to throw him in the laundry sink when we got home. 

On Saturday afternoon, Lee, Suzanna, and I took Shadow down the same rebel bike trail -- and the difference in the river's edge was amazing. Friday's warmth had weakened the ice that had spanned the river on Thursday, and the water pushed it right up against the banks in a giant jumble of slabs of all thicknesses. It would have been amazing to have a time-lapse camera set up for the 48 hours between the two walks...

This picture was taken on Monday, after more snow started to fall. You can see the open water where more ice is forming on the other side of the broken ice slabs. What amazes me the most is how tonnes of them piled up against the bank after just one day of warmth. The forces of nature are often quiet, moving almost without notice, but unstoppable all the same. 

And love is unstoppable, too. I've been thinking a lot about the happenings in Ferguson, Missouri, and how much people the world over need to remember that it's up to each person to decide whether love or hate will flow with inexorable force in our lives. It brings back to mind an old David Foster tune (written around the time the Berlin wall fell, with a line or two sung by Brian Adams) that I haven't heard in ages -- upbeat and optimistic -- that insists we are moving back to a River of Love. If you've never heard it, and the key change that still gives me goosebumps, I've found it on YouTube and posted it and its lyrics below.

My prayer, for everyone in Ferguson Missouri, for ICIL and those working to counter its hatred, for our missing and murdered First Nations women and their families, and for the marginalized homeless who are certainly feeling the cold in my city today, is that we can all remember our oneness and unleash God's relentless, unstoppable love in every corner of our broken world. God, help us to act justly, love tenderly, and walk humbly with our hands in yours.

+AMEN.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j885Awunb6c

Life after life

Stand before eyes of the world

Each man, woman and child must decide

We hold inside

All the keys to paradise

All nations, all people, all are one

We were born in love and innocence

That's how we came here

We were given hearts to love or hate with

Our time has come

When we can live as one

River of love

We are moving back to the river of love

Tired walls must fall

That new hearts may be set free

We stand close to the edge of the truth

Old wounds must heal in a fresh equality forever

All nations, all people, all are one

We were born in love and innocence...

Every day our lives draw together

Why don't we help each other?

This is a chance for all the word

To have what it needs

The freedom to love

We were born in love and innocence...

We are moving back to the river of love...