Close encounter of the skunk kind

So much for my day lily...

After delivering fresh homemade Easter Bread to my family last night, Lee and I took Shadow for a walk in the 9 p.m. darkness. It was a chilly walk, and Shadow hustled home in a hurry because he just got a haircut on Monday and feels the cold more keenly ever since. 

As we turned the corner of the house to our back gate, he was near the end of his leash... and it looked like there was a cat in the middle of the space between our place and our neighbour's house. Not wanting an altercation, I yanked on the leash, and Shadow paused long enough for me to realize I was looking at a cat with two definite white stripes up its back. 

"Wait, wait, wait!" I told the dog, hauling him closer to me, heart pounding, holding my breath in case we were about to be blasted with that special brand of perfume... 

But no. The little critter backed away, and quickly waddled along our neighbour's sidewalk and under the shrub on the corner of their house. Shadow didn't have a chance to bark or even growl before it disappeared.

Thank God!

I've been smelling a lot of marijuana smells around our house, and thought our neighbours might be indulging in a little cannabis lately. I even asked our nephew if he might be trying the stuff, though he's not that kind of guy. 

Turns out, I was smelling a small black-and-white critter, who has been sizing up my flowerbeds, looking for some tender vittles in the form of day lily tubers. It dug quite a hole, but I'm not sure it managed to sate its hunger very much before we interrupted its plans!

Sir or madam skunk, you can help yourself to all the tubers your little heart desires -- just please don't spray us!

(And to the humans walking around our neighbourhood, I recommend going in daylight hours when you can see our little skunk neighbour a long way off!)

Simple Pleasures: Cloud watching

My favourite cloud of 2021

With the return of Spring, we're back to that time of year when the sky moves into focus -- or maybe my perspective does. Probably the latter, because as the seasons change, I find myself spending more time outside when the air is warmer, the light is brighter, the winds are softer, and the skies are bluer.

I don't know about you, but my eyes are drawn more often to clouds in warmer seasons. In days of deep-freeze, I'm so huddled into my furry-fringed hooded jacket that it's hard to really look around. But on warm blue-sky days, clouds steal the show.

I have always loved the fluffy masses of mist that float across the sky, and trying to see things in them. Being born and raised on the prairies, I somehow feel sky in my bones, if that makes any sense, probably because it was the biggest thing around when my family lived in a very flat place during my childhood. 

Sky is still the biggest thing around, but when our focus is this earth-bound dimension in which we live, sometimes we forget to look up to see those white cotton puffs, undulating grey waves edged with pink/purple/silver/gold, or towering dark cumulonimbus monsters with tongues of lightning. And really, that's a pity. There's so much to see!

My cousin Charlotte is a cloud watcher. Every so often she posts her own images of clouds that take my breath away, with the tag #cloudsarefrequentlyawesome (you won't find that on twitter, because it's a special Charlotte thing). How I love her posts and appreciate her tendency to notice the extraordinary beauty in ordinary things that, too often, we take for granted. Especially a sky full of clouds.

Clouds are poems just waiting to be noticed, as the founder of The Cloud Appreciation Society expresses so well in this video below. Having our heads in the clouds now and then is good for the soul, for sure. 

Enjoy the clouds today, and if you can't get outdoors, check out the ones highlighted in this lovely eleven minute video. Some of them are quite amusing!

Appreciating simple pleasures improves our happiness quotient!

A little nature fix

Stumbled across this today, and realized it's a wonderful thing to have a nature fix, even if only online. Kudos to Robert Bush Sr. in Pennsylvania for sharing five minutes of footage of his local animal friends with us, without adding a goofy songtrack. I love the sound of flowing water. And there are so many different creatures who enjoy this log for lots of reasons. Enjoy!

Sharing with the birds

I had a gorgeous crop of Saskatoon berries that were coming along nicely. Looking them over last week, my imagination gave me enough to bake a pie, or at least to make a few dozen smoothies. I should have known better than to count my berries before the birds!

This year our garden has been a playground for three young crows, four noisy little blue jays, and probably a half dozen magpie juveniles (or maybe it's the same three who just visit at different times of the day). 

The jays are the youngest brood, and I get a charge out of how they overshoot their landings on branches and fences. Last week, I could have sworn the magpies were playing tag, or maybe "go in and out the windows" through my cucumber trellises! And the crows -- they seem quite determined to get the clothespins off the top panel of my lettuce and pea cage so they can have a feast on the unspoiled plants. It's a puzzle for them, one they have yet to solve.

On Sunday, I heard a lot of crashing in the Saskatoon berry bush, and when I went outside, I realized that the three crows had pretty much stripped the fruit by half even though most of it wasn't ripe yet. I shooed them away, but I'm guessing the blue jays and magpies finished the job -- this morning I went out and picked the half dozen Saskatoons that were my wee taste for this year. It's been so dry, I can hardly blame the birds for eating sweet juicy berries... but I have been keeping my birdbaths full so they can drink there! You'd think they'd honour the bargain.

I'm a bit sad that my berries are gone, but the youngsters have kept me company as I garden, and keep me laughing with their clumsiness and curiosity. The young crow in this picture often washes his food in the fountain before eating, but yesterday Lee exclaimed that he or she seemed to be using the fountain as a personal belly-wash station, sitting right on top of the little jet. To be fair, the sparrows do that sometimes, too. It probably feels good in this heatwave.

I guess I don't mind sharing my yard and a bit of produce in exchange for comedic entertainment, but next year I plan to find some netting for my Saskatoon berries before they're all gone!

Awesome eagles, spawning salmon, and lazy sea lions

This past weekend was a somewhat significant birthday for my husband, who decided that since he'd never done anything really interesting for his November birthday, he wanted to go somewhere warmer. Because we practice Voluntary Simplicity, tropical vacations are not something we consider much. It's bad enough adding to greenhouse gas emissions just to drive from one place to another.

So our trip was a one-and-a-half hour flight (bad enough when 11,000 scientists are telling us we're in a climate emergency!) to Vancouver Island to visit my husband's brother and his wife (who moved out there over the summer). The bonus was that I also got to see my best friend (for the third time this year). It was a really wonderful birthday weekend, complete with decadent birthday carrot cake, great conversation, and good hikes. We climbed Mount Tzouhalem, and a bald eagle even flew up to our height to wish Lee a happy birthday.

https://youtu.be/GVSACuRVWC8

Our other encounters with nature were also serendipitous. Our trip happened to fall within the ten days that salmon spawn in Goldstream River, so we went to witness the perpetuation and ending of the life cycle of the creatures as they made their way upriver to deposit their eggs and ultimately, die, leaving their bodies to feed eagles, seagulls, and other sea life...

https://youtu.be/8BiGk-RryGk

And we were just as lucky to witness some of that other sea life when we headed to Cowichan Bay for supper. There, on the outer marina docks were hundreds of California sea lions, well-fed thanks to the salmon, snoozing in the late afternoon sun, breaking out in frequent cacophonous choruses of sea lion song. But what happens below made us dock-watchers chuckle almost as much as their singing did...

https://youtu.be/FkZyHNVrR2o

Clearly, as hikers and nature-lovers, we couldn't have asked for a better birthday weekend.

River walking

It's been an emotionally heavy week, so I've been seeking solace in nature. I've probably walked 75 km, most of it along our wonderful river.

Edmonton is blessed with the most unspoiled and beautiful river valley, with at least 20 major urban parks, all of which I've walked through at one time or other, and 160 km of maintained trails. There are many paths for cycling, cross country skiing in the winter, walking and hiking, but Shadow and I have been doing a fair bit of "off-roading" of late, taking what I call coyote trails to be closer to nature and the water. When my heart and mind are in turmoil, there's something really soothing about the gentleness of the water's movement in the North Saskatchewan. Something timeless and eternal, that makes me feel like my struggles are but a ripple in the stream of life. River walking grounds me.

And there are other serendipities in walking the valley. A lengthy conversation about conservation with a fellow hiker. A pretty group of mallards who leave little wakes behind them when they paddle hard against the current. An unexpected golden delicious apple tree (probably planted years ago by someone who tossed their apple core) with sweet, ice cold fruit hanging just within reach.

For me, a walk in the valley is like a big hug from God.

Everything's a miracle

As you may have guessed from the changes in the look of my moodlings, we're back from our summer vacation... a trip to Waterton Lakes National Park, a visit to Lee's parents in Lethbridge, and a week at Radium Hot Springs. The weather was great, if a bit too hot, and we enjoyed a lot of outdoor time, appreciating our beautiful environments. The smoke from the terrible forest fires a couple of valleys over in BC wafted across occasionally, reminding us that not all is well everywhere in God's gardens.

On our way home, driving past some of the most beautiful places in the Rocky Mountains, we listened to my favourite tune by Peter Mayer, Holy Now (if you haven't heard it, click here) that reminds us that really, everything's a miracle.

Here are some miracles from the past few weeks...

Lundbreck falls near Pincher Creek...

Hanging out with my gang at Waterton Lakes National Park...

This "living lawn ornament" in the town of Waterton...

Wildflowers and a newly engaged couple...

The view from the heights...

Wildflowers as the sun sets...

The strength of the wind...

Natural hot springs...

Roads (extremely bumpy!) into the wilderness...

Emerald green lakes... (White Swan Provincial Park)

How nature rejuvenates itself after a wildfire (2003)... (Marble Canyon)

And the love of a good man for 26 years (today's our wedding anniversary).

I've never quite understood people who don't believe in a Higher Power of some sort. Yes, there's a lot of trouble and pain in our world, but there's also so much beauty, goodness and truth, and not everything can be rationally explained by science. Miracles abound. As Peter Mayer sings, "the challenging thing becomes not to look for miracles but finding where there isn't one."

I hope you're finding many miracles around you in these summer days...

A Pigeon Lake break

Lee and I decided we needed a little break from the city this weekend, so we booked a B&B at Pigeon Lake for two nights and spent a lot of time in the great outdoors on a lovely day in early May. Baby green started to show itself in the trees, and the sun was warm. Below are some pictures of our Saturday...

It was a gorgeous morning. 

We drove to the Provincial Park and walked the beach

until we found a curious sight...

These yurts, complete with wrap around deck,

fridge, barbecue, dining set and bunks that can sleep 4-8 people

are part of the "glamping" (glamourous camping) craze, 

costs ranging from $120-140 per night. 

I guess they're heated, too!

So nice to sit in the warm sunshine, listen to the birds, 

and watch the ducks on the lake...

Ice piled up on the beach...

but it won't last long... lots of open water.

The buds on these trees probably popped on Sunday...

We drove around to the northeast side of the lake to

see Rundle Mission, part of Alberta's colonial and missionary history.

Not enough Indigenous history for my liking, but interesting all the same.

I love red Adirondack chairs! 

Especially when contrasted by weathered wood.

The stories of the missionaries who came 

to convert the "heathens" made me so sad...

especially when I read that Chief Maskepetoon 

was a peace loving man called 

'the Ghandi of the Prairies' by Grant MacEwan.

We spotted a bald eagle on the edge of the lake

but she flew off before we got a really good picture.

When I was in my teens, I drank from this artesian well...

but it wouldn't be a good idea anymore.

We drove west to Alder Flats, and found Ponderosa City, 

population 2, as far as we could tell.

It's a little mock up of a Western town 

in almost the middle of nowhere, 

but when you walk into the mercantile,

this is what you see:

Everything a cowboy or cowgirl could ever need, 

plus a little restaurant with excellent cinnamon buns!

But the lake called us back east again... the melting ice 

was so interesting. Chunks of it...

or finger-like shards. It was like the ice was alive,

moving, crackling, tinkling, roaring.

Really, the whole day was a perfect break.

Simple Suggestion #252... Take a nature break

When I sit at my computer too long, my eyes don't like it. So I've decided to take more little nature breaks. Here's what I saw during one of my breaks today. Bees amaze me, that they can even fly with those stubby little wings. Just thought I'd share.

Why not take your own nature break today? Go outside, even for just two minutes.

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...

A Mother's Day meadowlark

picture borrowed from larkwire.com

When I was a child, my family lived on bald, flat Saskatchewan prairie for a number of years, so you could say that I have a huge affinity for big sky and grasslands. I remember walking to the school yard on the edge of Plenty, Saskatchewan, where I ended up following a Western meadowlark from fence post to fence post around its perimeter, trying to mimic the bird's song. If you've ever heard the call of a Western meadowlark, and seen his pretty yellow chest and black necklace, you'll understand my fascination.

A meadowlark's song still makes my heart skip a beat, somehow, and this week, my heart skipped many beats! My husband took a business trip to Lethbridge and I went along, and the bonus was being able to visit with his parents and celebrate Mother's Day with his mom. Upon arriving in town, we stopped at the coulees of the Old Man River so he could deal with some voice mails/emails that had accumulated during the drive. I left him in our vehicle and walked down into the hills, hoping to hear my favourite birdsong, and I wasn't disappointed!

Not only was the music of the birds incredible, but the sound of the wind in the grasses and the beauty of the greening slopes felt holy, somehow. God really speaks to me in nature, and the meadowlark's song has to be one of the best in creation.


So come along to the bottom of a coulee with me this Mother's Day, and listen to the meadowlarks.

The brighter call is the male, and I suspect the raspier response is the female. Their music carries a long way -- I was sure the male was singing in the grasses right in front of me, but it turned out that he was on a tree at the top of the hill! There he is in the picture below, the little black silhouette on the treetop, a very shy guy. That's as close as he would let me get before he flew over the ridge into the next coulee, making me sorry he'd gone away.

It was my mom who first pointed out the joyful song of the meadowlark when I was small, and showed me other wonders of nature (but not worms!) Happy Mother's Day to all moms out there, but most especially my own, who loves her family, her God, her brothers and sisters in the inner city, and simple things like the exultation of a meadowlark, and has passed those loves on to me!

Simple Suggestion # 198... Love a houseplant (or six...)

We all need nature in our lives. Studies have shown that just taking a few minutes to look out a window during a busy work day helps a person to relax and refocus their thoughts. So bringing a bit of nature indoors only makes sense.

Houseplants are a natural way to do this, and their presence can also improve air quality and decor. I didn't know this, but apparently spider plants and peace lilies can actually remove some toxins from the air in our homes. And though I know all sorts of people who say they have no green thumb whatsoever, most folks are capable of watering a plant or two and maybe even fertilizing them once in a while. It's just a matter of getting into the habit.

So today's Simple Suggestion is to love a houseplant, or at the very least, keep one alive. And if you're houseplant/green thumb challenged, don't give up. Keep trying. A little green is good for the soul.

Ever been to a Jurassic Forest?

I have. Just this past weekend. It was a gorgeous sunny afternoon on Saturday, so the five of us decided to head out past Gibbons, Alberta, to said forest. On the way there, we were wondering if it was just a tourist trap on some farmer's back forty... but as we drove up to the gates, we realized quickly that someone had put some serious time and effort into creating the place, and the experience it provides to visitors...

The woman who took our entrance fees was most informative, and we set off on our adventure feeling confident that this would be an interesting place. We were not disappointed. Our three teenagers had fun in the Jurassic sandbox, taking pictures of each other hatching out of eggs or caught in dinosaur's mouths, but the sun was hot, so we headed for the treed boardwalks into the bush. Didn't go far before we ran into...

a rather cranky sounding brontosaurus, waving his tail and swinging his head back and forth. Pretty cool!

Every bend in the path was peopled -- I mean, dinosaured -- with apatosaurs, triceratops, stegosauri, and the like. 

Edmontosauruses (how the heck should that be pluralized??) actually appeared in the background of a family picture that will likely appear with our Christmas letter this year. 

We also got to see a few mammals like the sabre-toothed tiger early in its evolution... and all along the boardwalks were all sorts of interesting info boards about local flora and fauna, from black spruce trees and mosses to moose, tiger swallowtail butterflies, and downy woodpeckers. One of our girls took a picture of a sign that explained the physics equation used to determine a dinosaur's speed based on its height, weight and body build. Can't wait to see her use it!

It turned out to be a really interesting and fun outing for our family. I took tons of pictures, but am posting just a few so that I don't spoil all the surprises. If you're in our part of Alberta and looking for a nice afternoon out in nature -- with a bunch of dinosaurs thrown in for fun -- I'd highly recommend it. Click here for the website that gives you its location and other info... and watch out for the T-rex!

Simple Suggestion #132... Take a hike

In case you're wondering, this suggestion has appeared because we've been away for the last few days... went to Radium Hotsprings, B.C., and got in a couple of absolutely lovely hikes. There's nothing like a good walk in the wilderness, mountainous or not. In fact, some of my favourite hiking has been here in Edmonton in our own river valley. I'm not one for strenuous hikes these days (I decided not to go on the Kimpton Creek hike below because of my dizzy head). Lee took those pictures, while I managed to take the ones above (including that cool shelf fungus) on the hike to Cobb Lake. Both days were warm, but no one overheated in the shady forests.

Hiking is another simple pleasure that I'd like to indulge in more than I do. Most North Americans live in cities and don't get enough of nature's sights, sounds and scents to keep us healthy, body, mind and soul. So, this week's mission: no matter where you live, see if you can't take a wonderful, de-stressing hike/walk to a natural spot... leaving only footprints and taking only memories.

P.S. Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Try here.