Saturday, May 31, 2008

Foxgloves 2006

Long time ago when I was walking along a trail with a ravine that had a small brook, I spotted a red-fox. It was winter and very early in the morning and the fox never knew I had gazed upon it; what a beautiful colour and an exceptional siting for me. When there's lots of rain in spring usual around June the wild foxgloves will be abundant along the river marshlands, secret trails, ditches and the most unexpected hiking routes. I'm missing them this year, so far, and I know some years they lie dormant in their earthly vaults. Only the right conditions of rainfall and heat will liberate them into growing: their familiar spears of pink, beige, and purple trumpet flowers recognizable from afar. Such dainty delicate little gloves only a fox could slip on.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Woodland Winter Snowdrop 1995

In the month of February without fail even while the snow is falling or melting into the slushy puddles, I walked around the parks and forest woodland areas and the small nodding heads of the snowdrops would burst through the crusts. These wildflowers are hardy and can endure the icy burials which they inevitably have to face. I would be sometimes dusted with snow and below they're cosy in their blankets only waiting to be released once more into the chill of the winter solace.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Secret Waterfall 2001

Once when we were trail exploring along an escarpment we came upon this waterfall. The sound drew us closer to find that secret waterfall and there it was behind another trail of red cedars and pines. It had been there for a long time and its erosion created a small gorge. We had to lean precariously against the trees; it also hung onto the face of that clay cliff with the beautiful dancing morning light. The sight inspired me to paint the falling of water off the rock formations and its skirting into waiting pools, only to be set adrift and plunge once more into another tier below, and on to the next glorious obstacle. Eventually the waters rejoin metres below into another stream and back out to the Fraser it flows.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Spring Arrivals 2006.

Without fail every Spring the familiar species of birds arrive and the enjoyment begins for me. I love those Tree Swallows and their aeronautical antics; with gliding effortless flight. Which are in fact, the way they feed themselves and keep the insect population in control. The Yellow-headed Blackbirds, I feel are quite rare these days and the breeding pairs with that distinctive caw, will nest in the cattails. They choose to set up home far out in the marsh waters because it's the only safe place to raise their young. The Red-winged Blackbirds are the early arrivals in the cold Spring air and naturally use the same nesting routine. Animals are driven purely by their instincts and the young learn by watching their parents. The meadow-larks, weaver finches, sea and tidal ducks, dozens of other songbirds and those beautiful hummingbirds will make their annual visit to the marsh too: and I'm thrilled to see every one of them. In July practically not a bird in sight, and the plants have set seed, and another glorious Spring done.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Canada Geese Family Grazing on White Daisies 1998

After I arrived at that park near Spanish Banks, a family of Canada Geese and those downy sweet goslings came out of the pond and began to vary their diet from the algae and aquatic plants; grazed on the white daisies and grasses as we kept each other company and walked up and down the little hills. Meanwhile, all around chaos ensued; the shouting and feuding from on-leashers and off-leashers running their out of control dogs and crying from children being knocked over. A goose is a tough bird and can fend off a badly behaved dog and protect it's young. Naturally it's the owner that's the problem. Unfortunately, lots of people discriminate against the geese but lots love them too. They're a living creature and they never harm anyone. The geese and us couldn't care less and carried on moving along the hilly parklands and onto another pond with nesting red-winged black birds. Plop...plop...plop and that family was floating away and we left too.