If I could

If I could see beyond the curvature of the earth, I could see Alpena Michigan. If I could sail a Clipper Ship, I could sail to China. If I could hold this moment, it would last forever. Today the wind is more than 25 knots. There is not a haze upon the horizen. The water is green and blue and frothy. I have walked to the island deck, sat in the Mascoka chair and contemplated all that I could see. A pair of seaguls drift in the wind, slowly being pushed from the shore and more inland. They dive and twist, catching another air current and rise again, searching the shore waters for their prey.

Earlier in the day, I had been in Keading for the Farmer's Market and livestock auction. Cherries and tomatoes, onions and scallions, thick sliced bacon and lean cut ham sausage ring were duely scrutinized, fondled and purchased. There are hundreds of stalls; Amish with black and white hats, buggies, plastic cardtables with lettace and potatoes, rows of berry jams. Cattle were lowing and chickens were clucking. There were tables piled high with Chinese made belts and gloves and nicknacks. The baked goods were real, fresh and inviting. Antiques, real and imagined occasionlly draws one's mind to a different era.

Tonight I am going to the Lutomski's for Pizza.

Tonight I am wearing my silver whisle. Last evening a black bear meandered through the shallows of Purgatory Harbour. Lately, on all my walks including shoreline walks, I wear my whisle. People from Whiskey Harbour and Devil's Glen having "cottaged" over the weekend who had left their garbage out for Monday pickup will find it strewn about when they come back. A mini dump every few houses; what bear could ask for anything more. Hence I carry my whistle, to scare the beast were we to cross paths. The whistle makes me feel better at least. Today's sun and sky and water and wind make me feel even better.

The Web of Life

"Oh what a tangled web we weave..." Sparty's windvane sports an evening's work, highlighted this morning by the dew. No matter that West is now East, North is now South. Life can take us in many directions, some of which are opposite to which we perceive the wind is blowing. The spider's web was built in hopes that unsuspecting insects will pass by and get entangled. The mid-day thunderstorm, lightning and wind disconnected everything, and once again, Sparty is cleaned and ready for duty. We shall see what tomorrow brings.

Today is Monday and that means wash day, all the clothes, linen and towels that have been accumulating for the past two weeks; off to the Tyler's for the marathon wash and dry cycle.

Today also is fetching water day, the ultra filtered, osmosis derived, ultraviolet radiated kind that only comes from our Lion's Head Home Hardware. $5.00 Cnd for 24 liters. "While you're up..." and in this case "out and about", stop at the dump, take the recycling, the 50 feet of telephone line lying in the grass on the Hydro line, and put the bottles and cans in the Boy Scout's shed; passively making money. On the Tyler's Turnpike, I met a 10 inch diameter shell snapping turtle who did not want to get out of the way of my vehicle. As he/she was on one track, I had room to move over and pass he/she by. Coming back, I didn't see he/she so I guess he/she didn't wait for me. Further on down the road, at the junction of Shaw Road and Little Pike Bay Road is a Yellow Flower canola field. Then on to Lion's Head via the West Road, taking the road (45th parallel) that is closed for road repair and bridge work from June until September. Without invoking 4 wheel drive, or even slowing down, cruise control on all the way I make it to Highway 6, no bridge, no road repair, no workers, no signs. I guess the sign at the West Road heading East is a vestige of times past, filled with good intentions. The road in Lion's Head is being reclaimed and refinished although the clerk at Scott's Home Hardware and I both agree that it didn't need it and haven't the foggiest idea why it is being torn up. Then a stop at the LCBO to get beer, back to Highway 6; making a left turn, more construction signs and orange and black barrels; cruise control on all the way to Little Pike Bay Road, no slow downs. I stopped at Tyndale's Gravel to have them call me about laying gravel on part of our road. The heavy well drilling trucks and the back and forth truck travel of the well and aquafer testers have now made a rutted muddy mess of things. The solution of course, lay more gravel. Somehow, I feel connected to the Sparty spider; I'll make a new start tomorrow.

A walk in the park

You can not believe how sweet and complex are the aromas in the forest when it rains. Stepping around puddles of water I breath deeply to capture as much of the fragrance as I can. Each breath contains a variance upon a theme: sweet cedar, balsam firs, wildflowers, and earth musk. I stand there at times, in the moment. The rain is pouring down, the sounds of patter on my brim hat, wearing too small a yellow raincoat and try to memorize these smells, these sights and this feeling. I forget for an instant why I have a silver whistle around my neck, I snap to vigilance, I am on the look-out for bears. Two nights ago, a porcupine awakened me by chewing on the cottage. Banging on the walls and bathroom window only gave the creature pause. I had to get dressed, flashlight in hand, out the back deck, around the bedrooms to the pump house, open and close the lid with a bang, proceed to the front, across the front deck, to the side of the sunroom and there, about to scurry under Big Red, a porcupine. My light shooing the prickly quilled endanged species along until it disappeared from view by climbing a tree. This morning I got a call from Clara Lutomski, there had been a bear sighting on the Devil's Glen Road. A big black bear, apparently unperturbed by people who had just been bicycling or jogging along, nor by dogs barking.

As it has been gently raining all day on and off, I did not feel compelled to dash off on my daily walk. The bear alarm only added to my indolence, glued as I was to my MacIntosh screen. Leaning into the afternoon, it was becoming apparent that my delay, or wishful thinking of finding a clearing window in the weather were for naught. Distant rumbles of thunder had me casually check Environment Canada's doppler radar for this area and I saw that the drizzle was more likely to become a torrent and I had better be inside for that. So, dressing for the affair, I headed off into the over cast skies. I passed our Hydro line, seen to the right in sunlight rather than gloom, I headed down our roadway to take the road tour towards the Tyler's rather then penetrate deeper into the bush by going to the green gate. It was in this early stage of my journey that I encounter the perfume that accompanied me in various degrees for the rest of my walk.

I am back now. There were no bear sightings by me. There was this ying and yang, so pleased to walk the bush in the rain, so emotionally aroused and alert to possible danger. The creatures both seen and talked about, plus the sensations felt and imbibed are part of why I come up here.

Observations from a deck chair

The Canadian Soldiers are limping around on the front deck. Their life cycle complete, the female has laid its eggs on the Lake water, to sink to the bottom. There, they morph repeatedly until they are an adolescent, rise to the surface, molt into an adult flying form and for 24 hours fly in swarms so dense these swarms have been seen on doppler radar. These Mayflies mate mid-air and then are done.

This morning I had breakfast on the front deck, successfully following the instructions of Jim Mininger making an omelet without ending up with scrambled eggs. I watched the ending of one life form as the hummingbird garnered sustainence from our feeders.
As you might have guessed, the deck on the island has a canvas topped gazebo. When the mood strikes me to meditate away from all electronic intrusions, its a nice place to be. The island deck is the place to watch the evening sunset. As the Summer Solstice has come and gone, the sun's furthest reach North has been setting over the far Little Pike Bay Point. Earth's wobble will take the sunset from over the Point to so far South, it can only viewed by going to the island deck at the Winter Solsitce. Sunsets across the water with colors and images to wonder about.

When things are not seen

Today is rainy, foggy, and cold. The wind off the Lake has an edge to it. I've closed the sliding glass door. Sounds of a motorboat engine are heard through the fog. I wouldn't be out there, but somebody is. The water saga continues; today, they are pumping all day at Bill's well next to his house and checking water levels of our well and the one off his road near the red Tori. Testing the resilience of the aquafer. The Lutomski's are about to come over for drinks and dinner; how easy it is to drift into a life-style "where the living is easy." Days ahead will be more like the one pictured, than the one I am presently experiencing.

Peace be with You

As one comes to the red Tori in the middle of the bush, the sign says in part: Mare Nostrum: "Our Sea"; the Latin phrase of Roman times to describe what is now called the Mediterranean Sea. "Our Sea" reflected how the Romans believed they controlled the known seas. Stella Maris is "Star of the Sea" the name of the first boat to reside in Mare Nostrum. Pax Vobiscum,"Peace be with You" is on the other side of the Tori sign: have a good journey.

Over almost a century, this area has had the Tyler's imprint. From an island in Howdenvale harbour, they ventured along the coast, both North and South, exploring and cook-outs. Mare Nostrum, a bay on the South side of Little Pike Bay served as refuge in a storm and a great place to picnic while traveling up and down the Bruce Peninsula in Argyle, the boat Ralph Tyler had built on Tyler Island in Howdenvale.

As you all know, times have changed and this 65 + acre parcel is undergoing changes, land development changes. The picture to the right was taken from our road facing West, the stake and the clearing represent the boundary separating the North portion of the development and the South portion. Although the sign leaving the property begins with Pax, peace, events have been anything but. A week ago, Monday June 14th there was a second Municipal of Northern Bruce Peninsula Township Board meeting to discuss the proposed development and to hear from a wider group of people than who had participated at the earlier March 26th Township Board meeting. Over the last week, I have heard from several people who had attended that meeting. I have read the minutes of that meeting and their attachments as well as the minutes of the March 26th meeting. I was provided with newspaper articles discussing Aboriginal People's issues regarding development on the Bruce Peninsula and I went to the First Nation's web site to read a more general perspective on Aboriginal Rights issues since Canada has become a separate country within the now more nebulis British Commonwealth of Countries.
Right now at least, the dialogue is acrimonious. Bill has leap-frogged the Township Board and filed with the Ontario Municipal Board as the Township Board has failed to act within the 180 day window per their Code of Ordinances. Some people were angry prior to the June 14th meeting and many more are angry now that the Township has been by-passed. What seems to be on the minds of many, is the issue of Aboriginal People's claims over lands and treaties that have previously been not addressed. There have been several widely publicized RCMP (Royal Canadian Mounted Police -Sargent Preston-and more up to date- equivalent to our FBI) and OPP (Ontario Provincial Police) confrontations where someone has died. Land disputes all wrapped around money. The view is from the Tori West towards the Tylers. To the left of this road heading West is the "road allowance" which is now in dispute, requiring consultation with the First Nation People, which cuts across a portion of the development, etc., etc., etc.

And here is our little piece of paradise, at least the road along the easement to our cottage. It seems that our being just West of the Whiskey Harbour road allowance does not subject us to some of the Shore Allowance issues although the First Nation People claim all under water land to the International Border with USA. My understanding is that many of the land claims are in various stages of litigation which will end up at the Supreme Court of Canada at as yet some future date.

In the mean time, the sun is shining, there are wisps of clouds in the sky, a gentle breeze wafts from the Northwest, the hummingbird visits and revisits the feeders, I have finished my walk to the green gate and now it is time for me to shower and shave, get ready for company this afternoon; wine and cheese.

Father's Day on the Bruce

Presumably Justin & Sherry have finished the move into their new apartment in Shanghai. I say this because Kathy was/is such an integral part of the move's success. I had Skyped with her on Friday morning prior to the move on Saturday.

Here on the Bruce, Father's Day morning, Sunday morning, the Lutomski's and Thuerig's and your dad will travel to Cape Chin for a Sunday brunch celebration; no kids from any of the families.

The water story never seems to end. Here is a shot into the bush just off the road. There are ponds and ponds of standing water. And yes, there are black flies. I use plenty of DEET, cover up in a broad brim hat and wear a flannel shirt, long pants and long sock. So far so good.

Wild flowers are going through their spring evolution. We had yellow lady slippers when we were up over Memorial day weekend that held out their shoe for us to peek into. Here we have the brilliant reddish orange tiger lily, alone and in triplets. I find them along the roadways and hydro lines where they receive the full benefit of the sun.

This morning the flag across the way hangs limp, yet, through the open sliding glass door there is a breeze, a pretty chilly breeze as a matter of fact. The wind is from the Northwest, right off the Lake, Lake temperature still at 10 Celsius.

Yesterday there was a windsurfer coming from down the Bay. He had on a bib wetsuit and no life jacket. I wondered, after the paralysing shock from cold immersion, would he end up like a partially empty bottle floating on the water, head down and the buoyant leg and feet section sticking out of the water? I wondered, how could I rescue him? Drive over to Bill's, get his aluminum boat, hopefully the motor not disabled, putting on my life jacket, bringing one for the windsurfer. What? Maybe 20 minutes? According to the US Coast Guard immersion tables, in 50 F degree water (10 degree Celsius), 20 minutes would be at the upper limits of survival if he hadn't already drown. Maybe its tempting the wrath of the gods, but, we could use a little global warming up here right now. My mother told me about summers when she would be at the cottage after her school year, and she would have a fire to keep warm every day. Anticipate, prepare, enjoy.

More than what you may have asked for.

I am sitting on the front deck, in the green chair behind the white patio coffee table with my feet up and a cold beer at my right hand ready. The sun is obviously out yet high clouds are to morph into low lying storm clouds tonight bringing wind and rain into the early morning hours. Tomorrow, another awakening to the sounds of rain outside my bedroom window. Our now 51 year old cottage itself has morphed into a picturesque cabin in the woods, by a lake, surrounded by wilderness. Not seen, but obviously present is telephone service and high speed internet. I could get a satallite dish and be able to watch television, summer re-runs of last year's action shows and situational comedies. Maybe, with enough channels, I could watch the Cleveland Indians baseball team, live.
Of course, I could go out to the island and sit in the shade of the gazebo, watch the clouds roll in. The winds are strong and out of the South. As the Bay is sheltered, the water looks calm. The Canadian flag across the way is really whipping around which helps me guage wind speed. The Environmental Canada weather forecast for Northern Lake Huron is for winds 20 to 25 knots and waves to 2 meters. The barometer on the wall in the cottage has been falling all day so a low pressure system is coming and the forecast for a storm sounds reasonable. I still like my line of sight flag waving as a guestimate. The Northern Lake Huron buoy 40001's readings and the interpretation of its readings does help add precision to my wet fingertip in the air weather forecast.
We have red geraniums and another red spindly flower that serves as a beacon for the Humming-birds. Our sugary sweet offerings keep them coming back. It is somewhat amazing to me that the Hummingbirds were buzzing around here a month ago, before red flowers and before sugar flavored feeder water. They kept coming back and buzzing the location where the planters were last year. Maybe they would have eventually given up had Kathy not come up two weeks ago and we bought the flowers, filled the feeders, and then watched and waited. It seems there is a lot of that going on up here: watching and waiting.

RJ, Nana and Rhythm are coming up to the cottage beginning with the July 4th USA holiday and returning to the West Coast the following Sunday. I have arranged for that week to be sunny and warm, the water refreshing, and the boats in the water. How could you ask for anything more?

Well, my beer is done, so I guess its time for me to do something else for a while.

Its 6:30 in the morning, the sun has been up for about 20 minutes. The storm of yesterday is history, and today is calm, waves barely breaking on the shore. There is still coolness in the air and I have turned on the electric heater to warm the cottage a bit and gone back to bed to await the joules translate to watts into heat and warmth and comfort.

Leah wrote back to say she was more interested in seeing pictures of the cottage than the hole in the ground so some early morning shots.

The hole in the ground still captures my attention as this morning the well drillers have come to test the well they have drilled; obtain information on gallons per minute and recovery time to send off to the Health Department. Somewhat simple, a 2 gallon bucket and a stop watch; 10 gallons per minute, enough for a family of 4. I did smell the water coming out and it does have a faint iron smell, no sulfur, no other grotties that I can detect.

These two fine young men were accompanied by a gray-beard from down Kindardin way who pronounced our well is fit and more than adequate. Good news.

With the day now moving to noon, it is time to refill the humming-bird feeder and journey about for a while.

Dinner at Lutomski's tonight.

Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink

This morning I awakened to the sounds of gentle rain which grew louder and louder until I had to partially shut the window. Of course I lingered a while before arousing from my bower and beginning the puttering of the day. At first, looking out at the lake, the surface was flat and the rain was coming straight down. Water was racing out of the little bay infront of the cottage. Gradually, the wind picked up. Now it is blowing at 20 knots and the seas are mounting; likely to reach 2 meters by late afternoon. There is fog. The haze blurs the outlines of the shore across Little Pike Bay.

Lake Huron is now 578.04 feet above mean sea level; a foot and a half above the low level in the 1960's, and 3 and a half feet below the highest levels in 1986.

It is fairly cool today and I have the heater on to make things toasty what with the wind blowing off the Lake with it 10 degree Celsius water temperature.

There is more water news here at the cottage. We now have a hole in the ground to get water. Actually, a 132 feet deep hole, nicely capped for now, eventually to bring us @ 10 gallons per minute well water. With all the expansive water of Lake Huron, why go to a well you might ask? Well, "...the answer is complicated" as I recall the answer given to reporters by the call girl of the then Governor of New York, Spitzer. I imply no such nefarious doings here though. Rather, a well has been in the long range plans of the cottage, to have it drilled while helping Bill with his land development plans. The opportunity is now, so we have taken it. Finishing off the well water project will have to wait at least another year. For now, the hole is in the ground and we await water analysis to determine if we need to scrub out iron, or sulfur, or whatever the aquafer has to offer. I have spoken with several people with cottages on Devil's Glen Road (Purgatory Harbour for those who want to know) and they describe wildly different well depths, water contents, etc. Next door neighbors, less than 100 feet apart are all different. I guess I don't understand bedrock aquafers like ours. For now at least, we will continue to shower, wash dishes, and flush our toilet with pumped from Lake Huron water, and schlep osmosis or steam derived filtered ultravioleted store boughten water for drinking (pitcher in the frig), ice cubes and coffee making.

Well, the rain has stopped, the fog and mist are still heavy all around us, so maybe this would be a good time for my daily walk.

Just in time

Yesterday, Kathy took off for Shanghai, not from

Lansing as originally booked, but from Detroit, arriving there, just in time. After a leisurely morning, getting to Lansing Capital Airport in plenty of time to sit and have yet another cup of coffee, we said our "good-byes" waving to each other as the escalator took her out of sight. Off I went to finish errands, getting home, and a phone call, airplane mechanical problems, "come pick me up." The trip to DTW was charged with angst. Did I take a longer route? should I have gone down MLK to I-496? "Would you please drive a little faster! (?)" I passed two MI State Police cars out with their radar guns, I wasn't stopped going 77 MPH. Down I-275, we ran into a brief but torrential downpour; raining so fast that the fastest speed of the windshield wipers could not keep up. Thank goodness for my purchase of rain tires for Big Red. Then, which route to take? to the International terminal, again, we went the long way. Finally at Delta International terminal; out and unloaded both big bags, brief kiss and off she went. Kathy had previously remarked that a family who were on the same flight in Lansing and traveling to England were driving to DTW in their VW Golf and didn't have room for Kathy. I saw a family, egress from a Golf, scrambling with their bags. I wondered if this were the same family as the one Kathy had mentioned. If so, someone still had to park the car. I guess we made good enough choices ourselves. I drove to a McDonalds at the far Eastern side of the airport, ate and waited. Phone call, she was booked onto another flight, this one a direct flight to Shanghai, no intermediate stop in Tokyo, upgraded to business class, seat A-1, handed an orange juice and champaign, and, settling in to her comfortable seat. I could leave now.

The trip back was altered as the entrance ramp onto Northbound I-275 was closed for construction, so I drove West on I-94 past Ann Arbor to exit 159, the Chelsey exit and headed North on M-52. Now I was traveling "country", rich green fields, winter wheat thick and knee high, corn already knee high and this isn't even the 4th of July; ponds full of water, cattle pastured. Just as I was coming upto MI-36, an East-West road and my turn towards Mason MI to avoid the I-96 traffic and construction, in a field on the right was a bird, a tall bird, with buff colored neck and wing markings. Instead of all white like an Egret, this bird had light tan colored markings, standing in the middle of a field, dart-like spearing a prey, this on land and not wading in water.

Today, I Googled and found the bird, a Cattle Egret, in breeding plumage, no longer confined to the Iberian Peninsula, but has now spread, over the last 200 years, to become world wide, as cattle rearing has spread all over the world as well. I had never seen one before. It is sometime surprising what one finds and learns when you keep your eyes open, and are "mindful."

Another phone call from Kathy: she is safe and sound at Justin & Sherry's, in Shanghai which is hot and humid, just getting ready to go to bed, and her bedroom air conditioning is working well.

Its nine o'clock, do you know where your father is?

On a clear night, and tonight is suppose to be a clear night, and this night in the Western sky, we will be able to see the rare occurance of Saturn, Mars and Venus. Saturn and its myriad of rings reminds us of the Earth and agriculture, the god for a good harvest. Mars is the god of war, and I am reminded of King Leonitis of Sparta, and the stand against the Persians at Thermopylae only to be betrayed by dissident Greeks leading the Persians through a mountain pass. And then there is Venus. Who does not know about the goddess of love and her quarrelous relationship with her husband Zeus. As we look to the skies for answers, we should observe where we are and in whose company we keep.

Tonight I will search for these planets alone, at least, not here with Kathy as she has fled to the viscitudes of patient care. I will join her tomorrow, but I will not be able to see the Canadian sunset over the darkening waters of Lake Huron for the next week or so.

As the sun sets one can see different hues and colors, depending of course on the pollution in the air. The more beautiful the colors, the more intense the colors, the more dirt and grit are in the atmosphere. Beauty to the eye may not be beauty in someone elses mind.

And finally, a pastoral glow. Pine, spurce, cedar, and tamarac trees are dark and contrasted against the lighted evening sky.

I have not packed anything yet as I am not in a rush to leave although I am in a hurry to see my Venus with whom I do not have a quarrelous relationship. Does that mean that I am not Zeus? the king of kings? For sure I am not.

Right now I can see Saturn, the rings are verticle, like a globe in a library. I will look for the other two planets anon.