Saturday, March 28, 2009


You still have to look closely to find some colour, but it's there.

 


? I guess the city did a controlled burn across from the Beechwood site?

















This must be Kentucky bluegrass:

Friday, March 13, 2009



Still will I harvest beauty where it grows:
In coloured fungus and the spotted fog
Surprised on foods forgotten; in ditch and bog
Filmed brilliant with irregular rainbows
Of rust and oil, where half a city throws
Its empty tins; and in some spongy log
Whence headlong leaps the oozy emerald frog ...
And a black pupil in the green scum shows.
Her the inhabiter of divers places
Surmising at all doors, I push them all.
Oh, you that fearful of a creaking hinge
Turn back forevermore with craven faces,
I tell you Beauty bears an ultra fringe
Unguessed of you upon her gossamer shawl!

Edna St. Vincent Millay















A ditch, some weeds, melting ice -- beautiful!

I did my first stewardship chore of the season today, picking up a lot of litter and empty bottles where half the city had thrown them. It's party central around the wetland. The beer bottles I attribute to wayward yahoos, but I can only shake my head at the "health-conscious" people who leave their water bottles and granola bar wrappers all over.

I saw some garlic mustard here and there but so far it doesn't seem like a lot; I'll tackle it when things warm up and thaw a bit more. I did see a couple of robins today. They looked cold and unhappy. Hang in there, guys.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Hey, look, I have a blog! Sorry to have abandoned you for so long. I didn't even follow through on my promise of a guest blogger. Welcome to my new blog followers. I'll try to update regularly this year.


Spring is in the air (and I heard a red-winged blackbird, so it's official) and I took a walk down to Beechwood wetland today to see how things look.

It was a very windy day:





The beavers have been very busy destroying big trees along the river. Holy cow.







Then I got to the Beechwood pond. Oh no ....








Everybody loves beavers until they start killing off your favourite trees.



Some of these little brownish balls were left by rabbits, some ... not so much:




There's still ice on the pond, but not for much longer:










More beaver work:




A few spots of colour in the drab early spring landscape:










Driftwood along the river: