spring at home...

On Tuesday, J and I left our apartment for the first time in more than a week – we really needed to breathe some fresh air and feel a little open space around us. It was unusually quiet in the park. We saw a few people walking dogs or jogging, all of them paying attention to the new rules of social distancing. We sat, enjoyed the fresh breeze, soaked up some sunshine, and sipped hot coffee from our thermos. And what a difference that quiet hour beside the lake made! As the song says, "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone."

Lake Ontario from Len Ford Park in Toronto

This little guy seemed to be wondering where all the
people (and peanuts) went. He ventured close to
beg a treat. Sorry. No nuts here.

In Toronto, as in most places around the world, all but essential businesses are closed because of COVID-19. We've all been asked to stay at home except for essential outings to pick up supplies from the grocery store or pharmacy, or for occasional walks where social distancing is possible. J and I have, so far, been fortunate to have delivery service available, so we've been able to avoid crowds and lines. This bounty came from a local start-up, a brother and sister whose graphic design business had to shut down. They partnered with one of their clients to make fresh food deliveries in our area. It's every bit as delicious as it looks. We were able to share some, some went into the freezer, and some will be on the table for our Easter dinner. 

Fresh delivery from eateasypeasy.com - yum!

Easter Sunday will mark 28 days of shelter-at-home for us. A few hours ago, I looked out the window and saw a splash of bright yellow in the garden. The forsythia is blooming! I can't get out to take a photo, but it was a happy reminder that spring really has arrived and, even though our lives are necessarily very altered right now, the world carries on and nature is full of miracles.

Wishing you and your families all the blessings of spring and may your holiday celebrations be joyful (but apart). As Toronto's favourite medic, Dr. Eileen de Villa, tells us every day: "Stay home, stay safe, and take care of each other."  

Daffodils at Centennial Park Conservatory in Toronto,
March 7, 2020 - just before the park closures.

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stillpoint... blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington

   

it's hard being grebe...

Today dawned gloriously sunny in Toronto so I packed up my camera and went for a walk by the lake. We've had a lot of rain and flooding in the last month and water levels are still higher than I ever remember seeing them at Colonel Samuel Smith Park. The swans were flooded out of their traditional nesting spot in the pond and have retreated to the wooded bank. Those trees in the foreground are usually high and dry, well back from the water's edge.

Mute swans at Colonel Sam Smith Park, Toronto

The top of those rock walls are usually a meter above lake level

Out on the lake, the grebes are busy rebuilding after a bullying cormorant destroyed their first attempt at a nest. I hope they'll be successful this time - they're beautiful birds and diligent parents.

Red-necked Grebe on nesting platform,
Colonel Sam Smith Park, Toronto

Red-necked Grebe pair working on their nest

Grebe nest in yacht club basin at Sam Smith Park

Red-necked Grebe on patrol

One of those nasty Cormorant bullies, too close
for comfort, as a Grebe keeps watch from afar.

I heard but couldn't spot an Orchard Oriole that had a group of bird watchers all a-twitter. Spotted but couldn't photograph a lovely little Wilson's Warbler, and watched a Robin capture what I thought was a gigantic worm but turned out to be this tiny Brown Snake. The Robin eventually abandoned it on the path. Maybe his eyes were too big for his beak? High above, someone else waited to claim the prize.

Brown Snake

Mine!

Back on the pond, this Mallard Duck and Red-winged Blackbird made it easy for me to photograph them, almost as if they were posing to show off their best features.

"Alright Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up."

Wind-blown Blackbird

Until next time, may all your rambles be happy ones!

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stillpoint... blog of Canadian author Cheryl Cooke Harrington

hawk in the 'hood

This handsome red-tailed hawk spent an entire morning hanging out on the fence behind my building. The neighbourhood robins were absolutely frantic but aside from an occasional imperious glance, the hawk ignored their scolding and even the occasional daring dive-bomber.

 

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babes in zooland...

A few weeks ago a friend and I spent a happy morning getting to know the two and four-footed residents of the High Park Zoo. A Toronto institution since 1893, the little zoo made news world-wide last year when its resident Capybaras escaped and went walkabout for most of the summer. The whole city seemed obsessed with finding the missing rodents. News reports regularly showed camo-clad people hunting through the bushes around Grenadier Pond brandishing cameras and nets... but the wily Capybaras eluded every sleuth and would-be captor. Eventually, one of the pair was spotted and lured into a trap by zoo staff. The other ran wild and free for a while longer but finally the duo, appropriately named Bonnie and Clyde, were safely returned to their newly-reinforced pen inside the zoo compound. 

Plans are afoot to move the Capybaras to upgraded quarters with a much larger swimming area and other rodent spa amenities. Meanwhile, Bonnie and Clyde seem content to bask in the sunshine and show off their three little "Capy-babies" – aren't they sweet?

There's a contest going on to name the Capybara babies.
What would you suggest?

This little dude looks as if he's plotting his own escape!

Soaking up the sun.

There are plenty of other critters keeping the Capybara family company in hillside paddocks. Here are a few of my favourites.

Bison, looking a bit itchy as he sheds his winter coat.

The Highland cattle were more interested in breakfast than visitors.

A sign on the Llama enclosure read, "Watch out, we spit!"
Apparently that's how you know when they're tired of your company.

Wallaby, enjoying his breakfast.

This Yak seemed quite interested in my camera.
I love how alert and intelligent he looks.

We waited, hoping for a tail display, but
this gorgeous peacock turned his back on us. 

As soon as we walked away, we heard him shouting and
feather-rattling, so hurried back to see. Turn around, turn around!

Finally. Isn't he glorious? Oh, that vivid blue!

So ended our day in High Park. It was my first visit in many (many!) years. Now that I know what I've been missing, I will definitely return more often. In case you missed it, while in the park we also visited the Cherry Blossom festival on Grenadier Hill. My photos are here. 

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cherry blossom time...

In the spring of 1959, the citizens of Tokyo, Japan made a gift of two thousand Sakura cherry trees to the people of Toronto as thanks for Canadian support of Japanese refugees after WWII. The little trees found a new home in High Park, thus beginning a springtime tradition in our city: cherry blossom time. 

I'm a couple or few years older than those cherry trees, born and raised in Toronto, but until this week I've never had the chance to see the trees in bloom. What a magical sight it is! 

My friend and I set our alarms for oh-gosh-thirty on Monday morning and made our way through rush-hour traffic to arrive at High Park a few minutes past eight. The parking lots were already busy, the grassy slopes full of people with cameras, people walking, people gazing up at the masses of pale pink petals in mute admiration. (There was even a bride with her photographer – lovely dress but no competition for the absolute perfection overhead.) 

Cherry blossoms on the hill, High Park, Toronto

Click on any photo to see larger version. (Images will open in new window.)

The vista over Grenadier Pond seemed stark as we emerged from the tunnel of blossoms but we soon discovered more signs of spring along the pathways... a gorgeous pair of Merganser ducks on the pond, daffodils blooming in pretty clumps, early flowers in sheltered suntraps, and – my favourite – riots of brilliant yellow forsythia.

Our rambles eventually lead us to the famous High Park Zoo, a Toronto institution since 1893. The zoo made news world-wide last year when the resident Capybaras escaped and went walkabout for most of the summer. Bonnie and Clyde are safely home now with three sweet babies as a reminder of their "summer of love". ;-) I've got lots of zoo pictures (including some of the Capybabies) to share next time, so be sure to check back. Meanwhile, happy spring!

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five sisters, four seasons...

My window overlooks a park and junior school, meaning my quiet writing time is often punctuated by the sounds of children at play or by rowdy summer soccer games. I welcome those noisy moments, reminding me to get up, move around, breathe the fresh air! At quieter times, I often catch myself staring out the window, lost in thoughts about the little grove of trees across the park. Do trees have personalities? I'm sure these do. I've watched them through the changing seasons of more than a decade and have come to think of them as my friends, The Five Sisters.

Surprisingly, this photo is the sisters in springtime. The tips of their branches were swollen and ready to burst with new green life when this April snow shower passed through. To me, they seemed to shiver and huddle a bit closer.

The Five Sisters, April 2016

In summer, the sisters close ranks, holding branch-hands to form a dense green canopy. They seem to welcome visitors, both human and animal, to stop and rest for a while in their shade.

July, 2016

A golden glow surrounds the grove in autumn. This might be my favourite sister-watching time. They seem so joyously alive.

October, 2016

In mid-November, chill winds have blown away the last of the golden leaves. Soon, the sisters will be snug in a blanket of snow, asleep until spring. For now... they wait.

November 16, 2016

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remembering...

As always in the lead-up to Remembrance Day, I find myself thinking about my Dad, about the brave and honourable man he was, about the sacrifices he made for Canada, and about the wonderful, loving father he became. I think, too, about my Mom, the separation and uncertainty she endured during the six long years of World War II, and the overwhelming relief and joy she must have felt when her soldier, the love of her life, came marching home.

At the end of 1939, Dad enlisted in the Irish Regiment of Canada. He trained at Camp Borden, north of Toronto, and was based there until his deployment to Europe in 1941. Here's a photo of Mom and Dad, taken on his last leave. Mom found his midnight pass with its poignant and hopeful "keep this for me" note, tucked into her pocket after they'd kissed goodbye.

Dad and The Irish served briefly as the Queen's Guard at Sandringham. Here he is, standing proudly at attention with the Queen and Princesses Elizabeth and Anne. If you follow stillpoint, you'll have seen this image before. It's one of my favourites. This was a proud moment for Dad, a bright spot in the darkness of war.

Dad's platoon was shelled while on a midnight reconnaissance mission in Italy and he was wounded by shrapnel. As a teenager, twenty years later, I began having nightmares about darkness, explosions, and pain. Only then did Dad share the story of that terrifying night. I can't explain it but we both believed I was somehow reliving his experience in that field in Italy. I described things he'd never shared, not even with Mom. After we talked it out, my nightmares stopped. I'd like to believe Dad's did, too. We never spoke of it again.

After a short stay in a field hospital, Dad returned to active duty and served in Italy until the end of the war. It was a snowy, mid-winter day in Toronto when the Irish Regiment came home. This was my grandparents' house on Norway Avenue, all decked out with flags and bunting. (You can't see it in the picture – and no other photo exists – but Dad was sporting a carefully cultivated strawberry blond handlebar mustache. Mom told him it would have to go if he ever wanted another kiss. Dad claims he'd never shaved so fast in his life!) 

Thank you Dad, for all you did and for all you were. And thanks to all the brave men and women who have served and sacrificed for Canada and for peace. 

On November 11th, remember them.

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