Thanks to a post from a birder on a web group called Manitoba Birds, and a friend of mine who made sure I saw the post, Christiane and I saw more eagles than we have ever seen before. We had been told there were numerous eagles near New Bothwell. I decided to try a favourite spot of mine instead. Not near New Bothwell but near Kleefeld. There we found a small forest with about 7 bald eagles. It was near the end of the light for the day so we had no time to waste. Thanks to my theory and Chris’ keen sight, we found a patch of bush filled with bald eagles. We enjoyed the sight for about 15 minutes.
We soon noticed that more and more eagles were arriving all the time. Sometimes one eagle would land scaring another one off a comfortable perch, but the entire congregation of birds was conducted with remarkable decorum. No one appeared to claim the system was fraudulent.
By the time we left we counted more than 20 bald eagles and strongly suspected there were many more in that small clump of trees. This appeared to be an agreed upon rendezvous. My images are not great or even good, as even with my massive 200-500 mm Nikon lens coupled with a 1.5 multiplier was insufficient, but we enjoyed the event immensely.
The photo not even mediocre but the experience was everything.
Sometimes—no often—nature provides abundant joy. We were blessed.
Every year’s in spring I rush out to photograph crocuses, not because they are Manitoba’s official flower, but because I think they are one of our prettiest flowers. This year I drove 3 hours to photograph flowers I can find within 20 minutes of home. Is that rational?
This day I joined the Native Orchid Conservation Inc. group on a field trip to Steep Rock. Chris thought I was nuts for driving so far However, I was keen to go on a field trip. I was also keen on seeing Steep Rock again. It is located on the shores of Lake Manitoba on wonderful limestone cliffs. I always feel like I am on the east coast of Canada when I there.
Steep Rock is one of the most scenic spots in Manitoba. It feels like you are at the east coast. Where else in Manitoba can you see such limestone cliffs beside a massive lake? Nowhere of course. Steep Rock is special.
After spending about 20 minutes on the beach our faithful leader Megan led us along the beach toward the cliffs that in some places could be climbed quite easily. Megan is a dedicated leader. Once she saw me clambering up a cliff in search of a good spot to photograph flowers and quickly encouraged me to come down to safety. I realized I was taking a foolish chance and did not argue with her. Slipping and falling there even though not very high would have been at least very unpleasant and perhaps worse. I promised her I would not be so foolish again. I am normally quite timid of dangers, but sometimes in pursuit of a photograph I take risks that I normally would not take.
Once we climbed up to the land adjacent to the beach we were met with glorious crocuses. First, we saw a few crocuses and then hundreds! This might be the best place in Manitoba for crocuses. At least I have never seen better. This was well worth the trip. Great scenery and a hundreds of crocuses. What could be better? I was very happy I had come on this trip. I tried my best to get some photographs of crocuses on the edge of the cliff with the lake covered with ice in the background.
There were a couple of fields with tons of crocuses, often in lovely clusters. Life was good today
Buffalo Point is a special place for me. At no time is it more special than autumn. It is always a sad time. I know what is coming and I resist the march of time. Toward winter and toward death. In the back yard (which is really the front since it faces the lake) which is where we spend most of our time, facing the lake, often on the deck, I looked around. I saw rotting trees. Is that bad? Is rot bad? No. Forests must rot. If the trees did not die we would soon be choked out. That would not work. Just like the planet would be overrun if we did not die. In this world, death is necessary? I don’t know about the next. That is why old men must move on and should not hang around too long.
I am like that old poplar. It no longer has leaves. I don’t have much hair left. Old is good. Someone once said, “No wise man ever wants to be any younger than he is.” Obviously, he was not a wise man. The tree had a hole near the top. To me it looked like a woodpecker had drilled a hole in the rotten tree looking for bugs to eat. The hole may be used by another bird as a nest next year. This old tree is still of use. So are old men. Of little use not much more than that. Not the same use they once had, but different. Still important. Old men need to impart what they have learned. What else is a long life for? In this day- and-age old men sometimes resort to blogging to try in their small way to give a flavour of what they have learned or think they have learned.
Albert Camus, one of my favourite writers and philosophers captured what I think about autumn– “Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.”
Delia Owens, who wrote Where the Crawdads Sing said “Autumn leaves don’t fall, they fly. They take their time and wander on this their only chance to soar.” I would say they don’t so much soar as meander. Maybe that is because I no longer soar, if I ever did. But I sure can meander.
Jane Hirshfield, the author of The Heat of Autumn said, “The heat of autumn is different from the heat of summer. One ripens apples, the other turns them to cider.” That applies to me too. I find apples too acidic, perhaps because I have acid reflux problems. Life is never simple for an old man, but an old man can enjoy simple pleasures, like an autumn stroll in the woods.
Elizabeth Barrett Browing once said, “Where waving woods and waters wild Do hymn an autumn sound.” Imagine that. How can you hymn an autumn sound? I wish I could do that.
George Eliot said, in autumn the still melancholy could make “life and nature harmonize.” I actually think that can be done at any time, but since autumn is my favorite season, why not reserve it for autumn.
The American poet e. e. cummings put his thoughts into a form that an old man can understand: “”A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long.” It is clear I too have known autumn. Sadly so.
One of my favourite writers, Wallace Stegner, who wrote one of the best Canadian books ever, Wolf Willow, also said it well, “”Another fall, another turned page…” It was time to head out to our deck and turn another page of a good book.
Chris and I spent one last weekend at Buffalo Point before her surgery. It was still a little before prime colours I thought, but the colours were still wonderful. Sometimes we just have to be satisfied with what we have.
After we unloaded our stuff, we sat on the deck and enjoyed a lovely fall day. Chickens were twittering non-stop as if they were getting ready for the winter to come.
The next day I went for a stroll thinking the colours were too green. With hindsight, I think I was too critical.
The second day the colours looked better than the first. Could they really change so much in one day?
Next morning. I went for a quiet stroll with my camera. This would be my last day to soak in fall colours.
The pond and lake were perfectly calm. It gave us trust that things would work out.
I was not in a hurry for autumn to come, because I knew what came after it. Ominous winter. This year that uneasy feeling was amplified because Chris would have surgery a couple of days after we returned.
Golf courses have some use, besides chasing little white balls.
After a lovely picnic at Whitemouth Falls we continued on our autumn jaunt. Our second stop was Old Pinawa dam. This is a historic old dam that was was built to provide electricity for modern Manitobans. You can see the old dam in the distance.
Autumn is my favourite time of year. I love the changing of the colours. In Manitoba the colours are not as spectacular as they are on the east coast, but ‘You gotta dance with the girl you brung.’
Our walking club had visited this site earlier in the summer.
A branch of the Winnipeg river flowed by with impressive enthusiasm. I was surprised there was so much water here as we had a very dry summer.
I was a little disappointed that the autumn leaves had not yet reached the peak of colours, but I tried to make the best of it. You gotta dance with the girl you brung.
I knew I would not be able to return to this place this autumn since next week. after Chris’ surgery I would be seconded to perform manservant duties. Of course in my opinion I performed those services with sterling diligence.
After we completed our too brief visit at the dam, we continued our meander through Whiteshell Provincial Park–one of the jewels of Manitoba. Meandering is good.
This has been a very strange year. Chris was diagnosed with a brain aneurysm in January. The surgeon told us it was a big one and he clearly recommended surgery. In fact he said, he wanted to do it as soon a possible, because he hated seeing his patients die before the hit the operating table. We agreed with this entirely. In fact, we didn’t like the idea of Chris dying on the operating table either. Her surgery had been postponed twice already because Covid-19 was overwhelming the Manitoba health care system. Both of us were very worried it would be postponed again. So one week before surgery was scheduled we went out for a nature jaunt to get our minds over surgery.
We went to Whitemouth Falls near Seven Sister Falls power station. It was a magnificent early autumn day. I am a sucker for autumn. I love the colours and try to capture the feeling of them, sometimes going beyond the real.
We have been to the modest falls a number of times but this was the first time we were able to get onto the island. In fact, because the weather was so dry this year it was no longer an island. We had a lovely picnic in the warm fall sun.
Life does not get much better than that. And I got to photograph autumn leaves. We don’t have the colours they have down east, but is you look you can see.
Chris had surgery at the end of September and after that we had to stay home while Chris recuperated.
Thankfully Chris survived the delays and we enjoyed a little bit of autumn. We only enjoyed a couple of days in the autumn. But we tried to make the most of them.
Like leaves, our lives are brief and then we flame out. Not always in a blaze of glory but we do the best we can.
As Shakespeare said,
Out, out brief candle!
LIfe’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Life was good and we wanted to keep it. And savour it. This day we did exactly that.
I love to photograph this orchid and then play with the image to make it appear to be glowing in the dark of the bog. This image is actually a combination of two identical images. One of those images was brightened while the second one was then blurred. In Photoshop I then combined the two images to create this result. It is like magic when they are combined. If you click on the image and make it larger you can see the effect a little better. Sometimes the effect is more pronounced than this image. Most important it is fun to make reality bend a little.
When Chris and I were in Arizona 2 years ago we heard a series of lectures at Arizona State University by a professor from Oxford, Jonathan Bate, on the subject of “How the Humanities can save the world.” I found them fascinating and have meant to blog about those lectures. Must do that soon.One day Bate discussed a little known poet by the name of John Clare who Bate says is the most important poet of nature in the UK. Even though he is not well know.
John Clare was an English poet and the son of a farm labourer, who became known for his celebrations of the English countryside and his deep sadness at its disruption. Like me, he hated to see the commons desecrated. He hated to see the ecosystems of flowers and community disturbed.
Clare was not very well known or respected until the 20th century when many started to realize that he was one of the most important poets of the 19th century. Perhaps poets like Clare can help the Humanities save the planet.
He can do that because he points, however vaguely to a new attitude to nature. I have blogged a little bit about that but again must do more. I must return to this subject as soon as I can relegate politics to the backhouse where it belongs
One of Clare’s poems which Bate talked about was “Autumn” in which Clare describes the changing of the seasons:
Thy pencil dashing its excess of shades,
Improvident of waste, till every bough
Burns with thy mellow touch
I love that idea. Autumn leaves evince the disorderly divine. Perhaps what we need to save the planet is the disorderly divine. Perhaps that is what the Humanities can give to us. That’s a lot.
This was a magnificent autumn day at Buffalo Point. It was Thanksgiving Weekend and we had a lot to be thankful for. We got together with our two sons Nick and Pat who live in Manitoba and one daughter in law, Debbi, and 2 grandchildren, Nolan and Stella. They were all healthy and fully employed.
We interpreted Manitoba laws to allow a small gathering. We figured 7 was small, but had tinges of guilt and fear. Just a little.
The blue skies were extravagant and the yellows were sharp. In Manitoba we had few reds. That is a pity, but the colours were still sensational. I went walk to take photos of the autumn leaves.
Astonishingly when I went for a walk I strolled toward the golf course to admire autumn leaves in brilliant foliage. Much to my surprise I met some of my old golfing buddies who I used to golf with regularly before I became a recovering golfer.
Can you imagine that they would waste the time golfing on such a beautiful day? It seems absurd but it was true. What cretans. I must search for a better class of friends. Some who might appreciate truth and beauty.
My mother used to always quote to me a passage from the Bible. “This is the day the lord has made.” She wanted us to read it at her funeral. And we did. This was such a day.
Autumn is my favourite time of the year to travel. It might even be my favourite time of the year.
This year I sadly confess I nearly missed it . As a nearly retired guy who works only a little bit, this should not have happened. I let one file of mine interfere with my nice quiet life. My grand daughter Nasya was right when she told me, “Opa you suck at retirement.” Harsh words but children tell you the truth even when you don’t want to hear it.
Maple leaves are the prize of autumn. We don’t really have them in Manitoba other than a few scattered spots. That is a dreadful pity. I know a stop just across the border in Ontario where I try to go at least once each autumn. This year it was very disappointing. Most of the regular spots were barren of maple leaves. I don’t know if I was too later or too early or it was just not a good year.
I did find a couple of trees but most in some places I deemed not very photographic. At least I could not capture them there. So I concentrated on finding them on the ground or rock instead. As some sage said, when the world gives you lemons make lemonade.
I always associate autumn with the last part of life. Maybe that is why I appreciate it even more now. The end of life; I am there now. The spectacular beauty; I am not there. Sad.
I believe maple leaves are the prize of autumn. I did not find many, but I did find beauty. It was worth the trip.