From My Window
My blog was originally intended to chronicle my adventures at sea and on the roads ashore. It has devolved to writing about absolutely nothing (Like the Seinfeld Show). I sit at my desk watching the world go by and offer cryptic comments about what I see through the window. I continue to take and post photos because I know that should I stop seeing beauty in little things, in the ordinary, then my life is over. I hope I help others also see a wee bit better.
Last night, while watering the raspberries, I noticed a stalk of corn wiggling vigorously. It turned out to be a rat up the stalk snacking away like a politician on a beautiful ear of corn. The defiant bugger only scooted away when I turned the hose on him. Once I was twenty feet away he was back at it. By morning he had cleaned up my entire crop of corn plants.
So I’ve been killing rats lately like a mad trapper. Despite having two vital dogs bred for ratting I am starting to feel overrun. Yes I know rats are one of God’s creatures and I do feel guilt even for killing insects but it sure is frustrating. The property next door is a bit of a feral forest and that is probably where they come from. I can’t put poison out because of the dogs, nor can I use the classic snapping trap, because of the dogs. My shotgun is not acceptable. I continue to harvest varmints with my electric rat zapper trap. I’m beginning to reconsider the effort and expense of gardening at all.
But then there is the taste of fresh from the garden vegetables. Life is about moments of bliss. This morning was the succulence of a peach straight off the tree with sweet nectar dribbling into my beard. There is the fresh over-abundance of zucchinis and just out-of-the-pod peas. How about just-dug potatoes? There is more to growing vegetables than economics. It’s good for the soul.
To relieve the tedium of our urban banalities we have hauled our trailer out into woods, but for only two nights, It is only a few miles from home up the Nanaimo River Valley. With the high wildfire risk there is no point in going far only to be turned away. As it is, we passed a small fire on our way there. It was quiet, we essentially had the campground to ourselves. We took a short hike through the mutilated jungle to a beautiful swimming hole on the Nanaimo River. It is a backwater beside a short set of rapids. Shortly after we settled there a flock of six geese descended the rapids bobbing and dashing along in single file. It was a wonderful sight and of course, no camera was handy in time. Later, while swimming, I realized there is a good population of crayfish. I know the river is also home to freshwater clams. What a delight to have raw water that clean and how sad that it should be notable.
Back at our campsite bright yellow birds fed in a Saskatoon bush and an indigenous red squirrel scolded from the trees. I haven’t heard that song for a very long time. Later I made a a successful drone flight. It is now safely back in its bag. I feel quite chuffed to finally accomplish a happy ending with a drone mission. It has only taken a year.
Suddenly the long weekend in August is already past. Despite the extreme risk of wildfire there were celebrations in our waterfront park including a small town fireworks display. Tiny boats helter-skeltered in the dark harbour looking like a swarm of fireflies. Judging from the din someone was having a grand time. This old grump on the hill went to bed and promptly fell asleep during the barrage, my dogs curled up beside me.
We descend into the last half of summer with shortening daylight and cooling temperatures. Back to school ads are playing. We know what comes next. Despite all that we can find wrong here we live in a wonderful corner of the mad, mad world. That alone is reason to stay happy and thankful.
“The older I get, the more clearly I remember things that never happened.”
— Mark Twain