Eventide

Eventide

Dark and light

striking

each other,

vividly etching wild colors

through the horizon.

The charm of sunset

makes me want

to scurry home.

~ Tara Estacaan

Are you ready to pick up where we left off in the last post?


We had been wandering the shores of Little Lake when we stopped for ice cream. Evening was quickly approaching.






I was chatting on the phone with my son at the time that I took this pic. Yes, I put my boy on hold for a photo op.






Although it's impossible to see it clearly, this isn't a squirrel on the dock. Though I thought it was at first, I soon realized that it was actually a young mink out for a bit of an exploration. I saw it more clearly on another night but it was even darker out and I never got a good shot of it.





Just a little later, a couple walk hand in hand along that same dock.






Local kids get a last game of volleyball in before it's too dark to see.






Moments later, the game and net were abandoned until another day and one of the players readied his bike for the ride back home.






A peaceful spot to sit and watch the sun go down.






They light up the fountain at night. It changes colours several times through the course of the evening.






Just a man and his dog, enjoying the peace of Little Lake.






This is probably the most romantic scenes I have ever happened upon. A lantern-lit dinner for two on a picnic bench along the water's edge. There was music playing from across the lake - one of the many free evening concerts offered by this wonderful town.






Goodnight, Peterborough.

Thanks for walking with me. It's always nice to have some company while wandering about town, and yours is always the best.

More photos coming up before too much longer.

Minky Business

A few weeks ago, I took my morning walk and stopped at the dam as I usually do to see if there were any interesting creatures to photograph.



A crow family was hanging around - each perched in various spots. Some were on the fence which surrounds the dam area and others were in nearby tree branches. Still others were in flight.





A mallard rested on a concrete block while she watched her ten ducklings swimming the the water at the base of the dam.





A lovely sandpiper skittered about along the top of the slope in search of something to eat. There were also more ducks, gulls, sparrows and the occasional appearance of the kingfisher.

Suddenly, the gulls began screeching as only they can do. The adult crows were also kicking up an enormous fuss. Ducks at the top of the dam swam further into the lake and the sandpiper and kingfisher made themselves scarce.





Gulls and crows began dive-bombing an area of the water. I could see a vague shadow moving underneath the surface. I wondered what could have caused such a commotion in the avian community.. and then it surfaced...





The mink is a fierce little creature. Most of the birds in the area were good flyers and not likely at risk but that wasn't the case yet for the ducklings below the dam.





Last year, the mink briefly considered going after a raccoon kit in distress. As soon as it noticed me at that time, it reconsidered the risk and left almost immediately. I figured the same thing would happen as soon as he saw me this time but I was wrong. Perhaps he was particularly hungry. I'd been watching this set of ten ducklings grow for a few weeks by now and I didn't want the mink to get one of "my" babies.





The mink glanced at me and didn't back down. I kicked the fence in front of me to remind him that I was still far bigger and that he might be risking too much by going after one of the ducklings who were still swimming innocently in the water below. I envisioned him going into the water and grabbing one from underneath. I kicked the fence again.

He saw the ducklings and he was not to be deterred.





He made his way down the slope while crows and gulls continued their screaming. Mama duck began herding her wee ones and the mink disappeared underwater nearby. I didn't want to watch.





The crows had not taken their eyes off of him and I let them keep vigil for me.

I took my camera for a full circuit around the pond and returned to the spot about fifteen minutes later. All was calm. The mink was nowhere in sight.




Glancing down, I saw the ducklings on one of the concrete posts. I took a quick count. You can count them yourself, if you like. I'm sure you already have. I don't know what happened with the mink but all ten ducklings were safe and sound.

It was a bit of drama that turned out well for our feathered friends. Not so much for the mink. Still I felt honoured to have witnessed one of the many events which is played out in nature every day.


More photos in a few days.

Scardy Kit

So here I was, hoping to get some older (late May, early June) images out to show you kind folks, when a few new photo opportunities came into my hands.

Tuesday morning, I took my usual walk around the pond. As I approached the dam, I heard what sounded like a bird in distress. A man and his dog were trying to figure out where it was coming from. The dog was very alarmed by the noise. We heard it again. It sounded familiar. It suddenly occurred to me that it wasn't a bird, but rather the sound of a young raccoon kit.

I glanced over toward the dam and there was this little darling, afraid to climb down into the depths of the concrete dam, where his mother and sibling waited below.

Mama was a bit concerned with my presence and proved that to me by growling every now and then.

I took a few steps back and the wee one decided to try to make his way down the pole to his family. He did just fine.

After crossing a small divide, the kit was now with its mother and sibling.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw this character scampering his way across the slope of the dam, intent on finding out what might be making such a racket. I didn't know if the raccoon kits were at risk or not. I know that minks can be quite fierce. But they're also rather shy, and as soon as he caught sight of me, he decided to go back from whence he came.


Mama raccoon and her more courageous kit started to make their way down the slope and into the water which flows under a speedy roadway and into a creek. She was much more adept than her two little ones.

The two of them struggled to make their way down the concrete slope.

As Mama and sibling were in the water, the more fearful one became frightened again. He paused and then decided to climb back up.

Eventually, his family returned and encouraged him to join them.

He struggled his way down the slope one more time..

He stood at the bottom watching for a little bit, looking much like a little bear cub.

He finally slipped into the water, beyond my view to follow his family.

Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you all about a different pair of babies which I saw at the pond the following morning. They're adorable and you won't want to miss it.

Superstition

"Very superstitious. Writings on the wall"

So goes the opening line of the Stevie Wonder song Superstition. If you were to ask me if I am a superstitious person, I'd prefer to think that I'm not, but that's just not entirely true. Regardless of how silly I think the connection between certain objects or actions and subsequent events might be, there is no denying that my behaviour occasionally reflects a somewhat rooted belief that there are indeed potential consequences worthy of caution.

Frank and I recently found ourselves in the clothing section of a store, where I was browsing the sale racks for bargains. He and I have very different tastes in what we each deem attractive colours and styles, and I generally reject the garments that he might pull from the rack as a possible addition to my wardrobe. I found very few items that I thought were worth their marked-down cost, and my eye began to wander toward the regularly-priced clothing. I had just selected a top when Frank came up to me with a simple, but attractive sweatshirt in my size, which carried a final price of $3. I promptly put it back on the rack.

Me: I do like it but it's navy blue.

Frank: It's a great price and a good colour for you.

Me: You've never seen me in this colour before but yes, I agree. I like how I look in navy but it's always been bad luck for me.

Frank: Maybe it's time you started making it a good luck colour...

I considered it briefly, but left the sweatshirt behind.

Thinking back to when navy blue became a bad luck colour for me, I realized it hadn't always been so. I had a short string of unfortunate situations about ten years ago, which prompted me to connect them to a particular top I'd been wearing each time. That association led to my attributing my misfortunes to the piece of clothing. Eventually, I took it a step further when another, similarly-shaded garment also coincided with a bad event. The final straw came a few years later when I decided that my thinking was nonsense, and I purchased a navy blue t-shirt. The first day I wore it, another "bad thing" happened, and rather than add the shirt to my laundry that day, I simply tossed it out in the trash instead. I've never bought any tops in that colour since.

Generally, I'm a reasonably logical and analytical person and I know that superstition is mostly born of fear, so you'd think that long before now, I'd have considered the source of allowing this to dictate my behaviour. But it was only this morning, when I thought back to an event in the middle of a winter's night when I was a child, that a connection was made.

When I was about five or six, we lived in a small, wonderful, old apartment building near the corner of our street. Occupying that corner, was a similar complex opposite our north-facing windows, with nothing more than a narrow lane-way separating the two structures. Early one morning, I was awakened by the overhead light shining into my eyes, and by my mother's hushed but panicked voice. "Get up quickly! There's a fire."

I tried to make sense of my surroundings. Everything appeared normal except that my mother was holding my coat and a pair of slacks. She was urging me to rouse and put them on over my blue, floral pajamas. She hurriedly helped me into the clothing, grabbed my hand and ushered my sister and me down the hallway to the front door. As I glanced to my right, my sister's bedroom window had an intense orange glow and I could hear sirens approaching from the distance. My grandmother lived with us, and she was cautiously making her way toward the exit, guided by my father. He had our pet parakeet's covered cage in hand as we left the apartment and descended the three flights of stairs.

The fire did its damage to the building across the lane but thankfully, there were no injuries. Our own windows had been hot to the touch, and the ivy on our walls was badly singed but our building escaped flame. By daylight, we were back inside our home.

I remember seeing the gutted apartment with its blackened windows by the light of day. Long icicles hung from the roof, balconies and each visible doorway and window. The smell of smoke permeated our home for weeks. I remember thinking that I would not like a repeat of those frightening events anytime soon, and opted very consciously to select different pajamas to wear for sleeping over the next several nights. Weeks had passed when I realized that the blue, flowered ensemble in question was never to be found again. I had to wonder if my mother had also decided that they were bad luck, and discarded them shortly after the fire. Most likely, I had probably outgrown them and they were simply weeded from my drawer along with other clothing shortly afterward, but that was what I believed at the time.

Fast forward almost fifty years, and I'm still making illogical connections between clothing and negative events, so I'm thinking that maybe it's time to put this silly notion of "bad luck" to rest. A colour can not manipulate the world around me, nothing bad will happen because of what I choose to wear, and I really like navy blue. So the next time I go shopping for clothes, I'm going to purchase at least one sweatshirt or tee in that colour to prove that I can free myself from the burden of superstition. And nothing bad will happen.

But, keep your fingers crossed just in case...

A few hours after writing this post, I found a dead Blue Jay on my driveway - a small pool of blood around its head. Doesn't that just sound like an omen of some sort? I'm going to take it as a sign that I'm on the right track in not allowing this superstition to rule me any longer.

Below are some photos which were taken over the past week or two. Along with my usual descriptions, I've included a reference to a superstition for each one. I hope you enjoy them.

Superstition tells us that a wish made on the first robin of spring will be granted.

This wasn't the first robin I saw this year, but it's the first one I photographed. (please click to enlarge)

A baker's dozen is the widely-feared number thirteen.

I saw what I first thought was a peeled tangerine floating in the pond. It took my zoom lens to help me realize that it was actually a donut. Perhaps one of a baker's dozen. (please click to enlarge)

If a farmer could see the sun shine through the branches of an apple tree on Christmas Day, this could be taken as a sign that the following summer would provide a good yield of crops.

Before the ice was fully thawed, this branch and its reflection caught my eye. I thought it looked like a stick man, with a large, featureless face. (please click to enlarge)

Most coconuts have three eyes but rare One-eyed coconuts are considered by some cultures as a bringer of good-luck and prosperity.

I thought this was the strangest collection of debris that I'd ever seen in the pond - several Carnation heads, a half coconut and a plum. Perhaps somebody dumped their green box (collected for compost) here. (please click to enlarge)

As kids, a common saying to express excitement for an others good fortune was "You lucky duck!"

This Mallard couple had just spent the last several minutes preening. You can see a soft, downy feather still clinging to the female's bill. (please click to enlarge)

Before leaving on a semi-lengthy drive, Frank touches the feather he keeps on his rear-view mirror for a safe journey.

This duck feather was one of many left behind by preening pair above. (please click to enlarge)

I imagine that mink are unlucky animals since their fur is in such demand.

Glancing into the sunset, I could see something swimming in the water alongside the dam. A few seconds later, this little mink emerged and scampered along the edge of sundown. (please click to enlarge)

Some say that the colour of a cooked Goose's breastbone can predict the weather for the following year.

This pair of Canada Geese relax in the same golden light of sunset. (please click to enlarge)

It seems there's an Italian superstition that frowns upon toasting with with water, or attempting to "clink" with plastic cups.

A child's colourful sippy-cup must have fallen off of the dock at some point. You can easily see the cute little hippo, but can you see the little bear smiling back at you? (please click to enlarge)

It's considered bad luck to kill a seagull (particularly for the gull).

The pond was alive with gulls taking off and landing, one evening. I liked the way shadows fell from the tree and the dock behind this seagull in flight. (please click to enlarge)

Many people hope to ward off bad luck or tempting the fates by knocking on wood. I don't think that knocking on a Wood Duck would count.

Generally, our pond is filled with Mallards, Canada Geese and Seagulls all year round. In warmer seasons, we'll also see Cormorants, three varieties of Herons and various transient species. This Wood Duck stopped by for a visit this week. He worked hard at chasing off another drake, in hopes of keeping a Mallard female to himself. Doesn't he have beautiful colours? (please click to enlarge)

What superstitions do you believe in - if only for fun?