Learning about Pigs

Bill and I spent several hours on Sunday at the Hearts on Noses pig sanctuary. We were a very tiny part of an incredible team of volunteers helping Janice, the director of the rescue, move her operation to a new site. She wasn't moving far, but as you may see from this post, it was just one step in a month-long, and huge undertaking.

First, this photo of a plastic pig on the bench in front of Janice's new home, because it makes me smile. But, don't let it mislead you. This image does not represent the reality for most pigs.

I am disappointed with my pictures, but didn't dare take out my new camera, as the rain kept up a steady drizzle all day. What I can show you is just the tip of the iceberg, in relaying the enormous expense and coordination necessary to plan this move. Here, a truck with crane is preparing to hoist one of the pig shelters up and over some very tall trees, and into the pen.
The first pigs to be moved are known as the super-wee's. There are 12 of them - Scotch and Soda, the parents, and ten offspring. I first learned about them when I discovered a blog called "My Life with the Critters." Jean, a very entertaining blog writer whom I finally met on Sunday, had agreed to foster Scotch and Soda. Shortly after they moved to her property, Soda gave birth. No one had realized she was pregnant. Although Jean knew that she would be moving at some point, and that she couldn't care for the pigs permanently, she agreed to foster the parents and offspring until she retired and found a new place to live. When that happened, a year or so later, all of the pigs moved to Janice's, at Hearts on Noses. If you go back in Jean's blog, you can see pictures of the super wee's, and find lots of stories and photos about their time with Jean. This link will take you to her first visit to see them after their move to Janice's.

The challenge on Sunday was to get the super wee's into the truck, put up a barrier in the van, and then load the two farm pigs. This was well described in Janice's blog post. I have known for a long time that pigs are very intelligent, but learned from Janice's sister that those who have developed a scale of intelligence believe pigs are 4th, with humans first, primates second, and whales and dolphins third. There were, I think, six of us holding large sheets of plywood together, and moving up behind the pigs, so that they couldn't turn back, once en route to the van. As one person was told, "Don't let even a crack of space open up between yours and the next sheet of plywood. He's watching you, and thinks you're the weak link." Phew! I held my corner with absolute concentration. No way did I want to appear as a weak link in the operation. The two farm pigs are much, much larger, but also more placid, and less stressful to move. The one concern was that one of the farm pigs had had her hip broken when she was young, and it was important for her to be carefully braced, once in the truck. Janice, who loves each and every one of her animals to the point of motherly passion, was barely able to contain her worry, and even her sister said, "I can't watch," as the enormous van was successfully backed out of a narrow driveway and onto a busy road, by an impressive, young woman driver.

With the van on the way to the new site, I took a few minutes to visit those pigs not being moved until next weekend. I learned that pigs operate in herds. It is important to be very careful to keep herds separated, and to understand which pigs can get along together. Putting two incompatible pigs together is extremely dangerous. This pig was watching all the commotion on Sunday. Check out the tusks. They have to be kept trimmed, and this is not something the pigs enjoy. Just a few of the many things I learned on Sunday.
Once, in the 1980's, when I was teaching in Nova Scotia, the vice-principal of my school had a staff party at his house. He ran a small farm, as well as doing his education gig, and the evening of the party, his pigs got loose. We were all trying to help him round them up, although I also remember that my effort was half-hearted at best, as those pigs were not pets. That is the only time I have been within touching distance of a pig. I realized on Sunday that I had no idea how their fur? bristles? felt.

This is Norman. I was taking his picture, and he was so communicative, I wanted to pet him. Wow! Very bristly. I scratched him behind the ears, but couldn't tell whether he enjoyed that, or was just tolerating it. Whatever his reaction, that small interaction had me hooked. I will always feel a connection to Norman, and will be thinking of him when he is finally loaded into the trailer to move to his new home.
A closer shot of Norman. I considered brushing off the hay, in the hopes of finding his eyes, but didn't want to increase his stress. I haven't learned to distinguish emotions in pigs, but my impression was that he was curious about the camera, wondering when he might be fed some treats, and not too stressed. Just a guess, though, and I was playing it safe.
I didn't get the names of these three, but was fairly happy to catch a side, front and rear view.
After the van was on the way, Bill and I followed Jean to the new site, where fences were being built, in preparation for all of the animals.

This is Lacey (left) and Dior. They are also Hearts on Noses residents, and were moved on Saturday. They, along with Jean, were the first to spend the night at the new site.
A couple of closer shots of the very friendly Dior.

Lacey seemed to be a little bit more stressed, but on the whole, I thought both horses were adapting well to their new home, and to all of the commotion around them.
Another view of piggy houses about to be lifted over the trees.
Here, you can see some of the many pens and the fencing necessary to keep the herds separated. If you look very carefully (you may want to click on the picture to enlarge it), you will see a ladder. At the foot of the ladder stands a young man. I have forgotten his name, but his father, Steve, is in the tree, having climbed above ladder's height.
Here is a closer shot of Steve. What a remarkable fellow he is. I slowly figured out that I have come across Steve before. He does a lot of work for Carol at SAINTS, a rescue for unwanted senior animals of many breeds and descriptions. I often read Carol's blog, and had noticed comments from Steve, usually added to reassure or comfort Carol during times of sadness and stress. As anyone who has ever had a senior pet knows, along with the many joys come health concerns and the knowledge that every moment with them is precious. Multiply these emotional factors with the huge number of animals that Carol and her staff care for, and the value of a compassionate, multi-talented fellow like Steve becomes very obvious. Seeing him in that tree was another of Janice's "I can't look" moments!
More views of fencing, some completed, and lots more in the process. Janice works out a system where, herd by herd, the pigs are allowed out of their pens for a free roam around the entire property. They even come in her house, via a specially built ramp!
I thought I had a picture of a house coming over the trees, but what I actually captured was some of the support structures being lifted over first.
Steve, again, with the crane in the background, and his handiwork all around him.
A couple of truck shots, because I find them fascinating.

Bill and I couldn't stay to see the super wee's established in their new home. Black Jack had been waiting in Bill's truck, and I felt she needed some run time. No way we could have her around, with so much activity, and so we reluctantly left. I am so sorry I didn't get more pictures, but hope that this will give you a bit of an idea of the enormity of any kind of animal rescue. Rewarding? Absolutely, but what a huge responsibility! Thank you, Janice, for the wonderful life you give these pigs and all of your charges. You have a heart of gold, and my hat is off to you, and to all of those who regularly help you out. If anyone reads this, and is available next weekend, please don't hesitate to volunteer your services. This move is far from over, and every bit of help, no matter how small, is very much appreciated.

Here is Bill, trying to follow Black Jack around, as she explores the riverside near Janice's place. My hat is off to him as well. Thank you, Bill, for driving us to Maple Ridge, and for just being your sweet, helpful, good self!
A shot of the river, with Black Jack somewhere on the rocks below, and Bill's hand keeping a tight grip on the long leash.
And, one final shot of a beautiful tree branch. That was our day in Maple Ridge. A wonderful one, with what I call "salt of the earth" people. Do check out that link to Janice's blog for more about the move and her rescue operation.

Rain breaks

It rained all day today. Black Jack is not a fan of wet weather, but once we made it as far as the rabbit bushes in Jericho park, she finally became enthused about her outdoor time. No pictures at the park, though. It was just too wet. She was shivering by the time we arrived home, but agreed to pose once she was curled up, warm and happy in her bed.

You might remember my early morning post on Wednesday, begging for one more dry ride. That request was granted, but perhaps it came at a cost. A flat tire, just as I turned the corner onto 1st Avenue in North Vancouver that morning meant a fairly lengthy walk to school. A few hours after that, I found out that my debit card was compromised, and by then, the rain was coming down full force. Bill came to the rescue, picking me up after school, driving me to the bank, from there to Ride on Again for a new tire, then to Duffy's Books to pick up two new photography books (kindly recommended by Iputts), and after all that, we stopped at Capers for some delicious soup and a salad. He turned a frustrating day into a very good one. Thank you, thank you, Bill!

On Thursday, my new temporary debit card wasn't working, and I had to stop at the bank (different branch this time) on the way home. Sitting with the teller for another hour, bedraggled and soaked after another wet ride, could have been much worse. She was a nice lady, and we did eventually sort out the problem. Friday morning, the rain stopped just as I arrived at school. I decided to take my students for a walk along the waterfront, and that turned out to be the perfect decision. They were tired of rain too, and getting outdoors without rain gear made us all giddy with excitement. The light was poor, and whatever new photography information that I'm gaining from my reading is at this point just about enough to establish how far I have to go. Still, with only one picture today (Saturday), they are all I have to show for the latter part of the week.

One of my students was the first to see this bird. I managed a quick picture before it flew off, and am guessing that it was some type of finch.

The next picture needed a lot of help from iphoto to lighten it, but I rather like it. I'll say finch again. Purple or House Finch? I'm really not sure.
One of my students tasted a berry like this. Sumac, I believe. He, to my relief, spit it out, although I know the birds eat them, so I guess there wasn't too much to worry about.
The rain held off, but the sky was very grey. I really wanted a better picture of this cormorant. (Double Crested, I think.) It looked like a teacher, lecturing to a line-up of shorebirds and seagulls.
Shortly after we watched the cormorant, a fireboat came along, and spent considerable time spewing water into the ocean. I guess it was a test exercise of some sort. What I don't understand is why they had to spray the water so close to the only log where birds could rest. The birds flew off. I'm hoping they were none the worse for wear.

I loved this little bird. It stayed in one spot for a minute or so. Long enough to get a little better quality picture than the others, but still, I haven't been able to positively identify it. Song Sparrow, maybe?

Some Canada Geese came by, but I was standing on a rock. By the time I was able to get them in my viewfinder, they were over the masts in the marina.
The weather really wasn't all that great, but for some reason, everything seemed to fall into place to make it a great walk. My students stopped to pat a dog, and that led to a new and wonderful connection. The dog was with its human, Wade Baker. He introduced himself, and told us that his dog's name translated to mean "Little Bear." Mr. Baker is an artist, and is responsible for the entrance to the Spirit Trail in North Vancouver. His design was also chosen for a millennium coin, and he has created many other beautiful and symbolic native works. He walked along with us, and by the turnaround point, had established a bond with my students. He had a book in his car, showing photos of some of his work, history, and recent introduction to Prince Charles and Princess Camilla. My students posed for pictures with him, and I thought a bit how sometimes, spur of the moment decisions like that class walk can lead to completely unexpected pleasures. The picture below shows the centre of the Spirit Trail carving being lifted into place.

As we headed back to school, I watched this cormorant (Double Crested, I think) take a bath.

Then it rose up, flapped its wings,
and began to skim over the water in a low altitude flight pattern.

I have read that cormorants cannot fly very well when wet, and that is why we so often see them with wings spread, trying to dry off. It seems a strange characteristic for a bird that dives for its food, but I do love watching them pose in various ballet positions when they are drying.
During the last few minutes of our walk, the light in the sky was quite lovely.
This poodle came bounding by, absolutely full of playful energy. I thought it might be trimmed like this because it was a movie star, or had some obligation that required a "classic" cut.
In fact, I learned that this cut is known as the Continental, and I guess its human had good reasons for wanting her dog to be clipped in the traditional cut. She was very nice to let me take pictures, and there was no question the dog was very, very happy, but I couldn't help but wonder if it wouldn't be more comfortable (and warmer) with more covering around its hind quarters.

I was glad that the walk had been so much fun, because the ride home was quite stressful. Thunder and lightening, just before I reached the Lions Gate Bridge, forced me to load the bike on a city bus. The poor driver had to brave the rain to help me do that, as I wasn't quite sure how the bike rack worked. I also wasn't prepared with the correct change, but again, the driver's kindness turned a stressful few moments into a good memory. He told me just to give him what I could find in my pockets, and although that was only a small portion of the fare, he was fine with that. He also helped me unload the bike once we were over the bridge. Thanks, dear bus driver. You are a kind soul indeed.

Tomorrow, the rain is supposed to let up a little, just for the one day. I'm happy about that. Bill and I will be going to Maple Ridge. Janice, of Hearts on Noses rescue, is moving down the road to a new home. I'm really looking forward to meeting her, as well as her pigs, horses, cats, dog and turtle. Jean, whose wonderful blog, My life with the critters, has given me food for thought for more than a year, will be there as well. She fostered ten of the pot-bellied pigs and remains loyal to them and to Janice, even though she now lives on The Island . How neat to finally meet people whose blogs I have been reading. I'm hoping to get some pictures, so stay tuned, and please send good thoughts for a stress-free transfer for all the critters to their new home.

Of weather and leaders

Soggy weather has at least one good thing about it. The dry days look really, really good! Jean, danced to the tune of a blue sky yesterday, and so did I. The little rivers of water under my socks during Monday's bike commute were not missed on Tuesday.

I rushed out to get a couple of pictures during my lunch break. No rain cover needed for my camera! My captures weren't earth shatteringly unusual or fantastic, but they made me happy.

A crow,

and a Canadian Goose.
The goose turned, came to the water's edge, and stood on one foot. I waited, wanting to get an open-winged shot, but it outstayed me. When I left, it was still on that same foot. I wonder if it was finding the water temperature a bit cool.

One cormorant mingled with the seagulls on the only log that has been left in the area where the seals used to congregate. I'm not sure why the other logs and platforms have been removed, but am hoping it's a temporary thing. I miss the seal. The pylons are gone, too. Only the one that housed the osprey nest has been left standing. I hope the ospreys won't be put off by the changed look of the area, and will still move back into their summer residence.

I took a couple of moments to admire the flowers along the path back to school. Midway through November, and still blooming! I've been in BC for ten years, but that continues to amaze me.
The seagulls seem happy, rain or shine.

As I entered the school cafeteria, the quote of the day caught my eye. "Happiness is when what you think, what you say and what you do are in harmony." Mahatma Gandhi. Mm, yes, but happiness is a good weather day, too.

We have a house system at my school. The four houses are named after Martin Luther King,

Nelson Mandela,

Mahatma Gandhi,

and Pierre Eliot Trudeau.

For the past two days, my students and I have been looking into the life of Jane Goodall. There has been talk, recently, about the fact that none of our houses are named after a female role role model. Several excellent suggestions were made, but it just now occurs to me that Jane Goodall could be another possible candidate for that honor. Her Roots and Shoots program tries to make the world a better place for people, animals and the environment. What do you think?

The forecast for this morning isn't looking great. Hold off, Mr. Weather Man, please, for another hour or so. Just one more dry ride. Just one more.

Mostly Rain

With mostly rain last week, and pretty much nothing but rain in the forecast for the coming week, Black Jack and I are having to go with a better-get-out-and-find-a-way-to-enjoy-it attitude. I think I'm doing a little better at that than Black Jack, although she is definitely showing some signs of adapting. For a little dog that came from Florida (best information I was able to come up with from her rescue), and for a dog with sun-worshipping Chihuahua breeding in there somewhere, she's doing quite well.

Just to firmly establish my habit of never sticking to the original topic too closely, I'll start the post with my first North Shore Mountains snow shot of the season. I think I took it on Tuesday afternoon. As long the snow stays in the mountains, and not on my commute route, I find it beautiful.

This grey squirrel (Are they still grey squirrels even if they have some brown in them?) was in the tree beside my balcony on Saturday. With the balcony roof giving protection from the rain, I thought my camera did a fair job of capturing it. There are just a couple of spots where branches left blur marks on the image, but its beautiful tail, cute button nose, sharp eyes, and tiny, clinging toes came through just as I saw them
Black Jack had quite a day Saturday. She was already very interested in the squirrel, but shortly after that, Felix the cat, out on a walk with his human, decided to jump onto my balcony. I opened the door to say "Hi" and he walked right into my apartment. He went straight to the bedroom, with Black Jack close behind. She was beside herself with excitement, but amazingly well behaved, all things considered. Here, she is on the bed, looking down at Felix, who has decided to inspect under the bed. Sorry, Felix! I'm just a tad behind with housekeeping lately.
I ran around after Felix, trying to get pictures, but he made that quite a challenge. Finding a top kitchen cupboard open, he jumped effortlessly onto the counter, and from there, right into the cupboard. My zoom lens wasn't helping much, and there was no time to change it. Here, I managed to get a shot as he came into the living room. He always wears that bandage around his neck. I think there is some sort of permanent skin problem that he and his humans are trying to deal with. It sure isn't because of boredom. He is taken outside for several walks each day. Felix is clearly a much loved cat. He also has the temperament of an angel, putting up with Black Jack's antics, and never once showing a hint of annoyance.
This was the last shot I managed before he left. Come back any time, Felix!
I took this shot of Harvey from my balcony on Sunday. It was pouring! I really want to show you the one I took with Dale, his human, standing, dripping, as he held the umbrella over Harvey, but I haven't asked permission to post it, so that will have to wait. Harvey, I believe, is fifteen. He has lived in this building for many years. He walks very slowly now, but he is a happy, and insanely well looked after dog.

The rest of the pictures for this post were taken with my new camera rain cover. I am not at all happy with it. If anyone has suggestions for one that I can use (not with a tripod, but hand held), please let me know. I could barely see my subjects in the view finder, so shooting was virtually blind, but here's what I caught at Jericho. They are all of the same heron. I think it may be called a Tricoloured Heron. It wasn't shy at all. It would have been the perfect subject in better light and minus the rain.



These shots were taken on the little bridge at Jericho. A man and his little boy were feeding white bread to the birds. I wanted to say something, but held my tongue. Again, the camera cover was not my friend.
I like this one for the drop of rain on the seagull's beak.
The requisite crow shot.
These last two shots were taken at Maplewood Flats in North Vancouver. Bless Bill's heart for taking me there, late on Sunday afternoon, in a downpour! I hope to go back in slightly better weather. Both Ship Rock and IPutts have some amazing captures taken at that location.Must go, but not before saying "Thank You" to Bill, and to you, for reading.

Of Flight, Freedom and Paying Respect

On Remembrance Day, at eleven o'clock, I wore a poppy and stood with Black Jack at the fishing wharf, just past Jericho Beach. (This picture of the wharf was taken two days later.)

It seemed there was significance in everything I saw. A seagull with a knowing expression made me think of all that birds have witnessed. I thought of the larks in the poem, In Flanders Fields.

This plane, maybe an Aurora CP-140 Submarine Hunter, flew low, coming toward me, in a ceremonial manoeuvre.

It flew so low, I could see the faces of the pilots. I thought of Mr. Fred Mullen, a WWII RCAF veteran, who spoke at my school at a "We Remember" assembly on Tuesday. It is the 4th year he has spoken, and his words, as well as the pleasure he takes in sharing his story, always touch me deeply. There were approximately 350 students at the assembly, and he shook hands with each one of them. His smile, and the tears in his eyes, would have melted a heart of stone.

My camera seemed to have a mind of its own, one minute, following the seagulls,

..and the next, the planes. These, I think, may be from a club called The Fraser Blues. There were nine of them flying.

Surely, the ability to rise above the earth symbolizes the freedom we cherish.

Here, the two planes on the left appear to be touching, a phenomena of perspective, but still, an impressive feat of precision flying. Each generation reaches further than the one before could have imagined possible.

The seagull was probably wondering about its next meal, but its quizzical look connected to my thoughts about human beings and fighting. Honestly, I don't get it. With all the progress mankind has made, we still have not figured out a way to just get along.

Flight.. it will never seem ordinary. Here, eight planes and a seagull. I guess the seagull wasn't as close as it appeared to my eyes, but I had a twinge of concern for it, and for the pilots.Black Jack and I left the wharf and walked back through the park on our way home. We passed one gentleman wearing a poppy. He smiled, a bit grimly, I thought. I wondered if he also was trying to make sense of it all.

This tree is at the side of the path that leads to the wharf. I took its picture because I found it to be beautiful against the sky, but now, it occurs to me that trees witness silently, sometimes over centuries.
Black Jack was intensely interested in finding out what was in a hollow log. She wasn't free to investigate as fully as she would have preferred, but she carried on as best she could.
Through the rabbit bushes.
Past some flowers.
Just a squirrel gathering food for the winter, but each encounter seemed extraordinary.
A young and very pretty seagull.
Five dogs under the leadership, and restrictions of a man..
who was convinced that the training was necessary and right.
One more knowing look as we left the park.
Two days later, back at Jericho on a windy day, remembrance was still on my mind. I believe November 11th will always bring images of my father, who polished his shoes and his medals, marched proudly with his comrades through our small village, and paid fierce respect to the ones who did what they believed to be right, and paid with their lives.

The robins gathered their food,

and seemed to enjoy the short bursts of sunlight.

The crows gathered food as well,

while Black Jack responded to the wind's energy.

This post has simmered for several days, partly because of the wait necessary while Blogger upgraded my photo storage, and partly because my thoughts continue to be conflicted.

A young soldier, Sergeant R. Morgan, also spoke at my school on the 10th. He gave his personal remembrances, after fighting for peace in Bosnia and Afghanistan. A very likeable young man, he has seen far more pain than any human being should. He was asked some tough questions by our students, and he handled those queries-verging-on-accusations bravely and honestly. He also, along with the other veterans at the assembly, shook hands with every young person in the gymnasium. He works now as a recruiter for the Canadian Military, although recruiting was not his mission when he spoke to our students. I shudder when I pass by the signs in front of the Seaforth Armoury, inviting youth to enlist. I want the youth of the world to find another way to solve conflict. If Remembrance Day serves to inspire that direction, then, it must certainly be the most important day of the year.

A young seagull, flying free..

and some beautiful red leaves taken just as we rounded the corner home on the 11th, conclude a post that pays fervent respect, but begs for peaceful tactics to solve present and future conflicts.

Sunday stops

I cycled to school today, for an extra rehearsal in preparation for a Remembrance Day assembly on Tuesday. On the way home, I stopped just once, to stand for a few moments in one spot by Lost Lagoon. It felt like a bit of a parade, as mallards, one Hooded Merganser, a couple of swans, an American Coot, and a racoon made their way by me.

Before I left the school, I took a few pictures by the river. I really wanted to post one picture of a seagull taking off, but Blogger is refusing it. I understand that I have reached my limit, but even after deleting a couple of the other pictures, it still won't accept my seagull. I wonder if others have encountered this and gone the route of paying for extra storage space.

So, just two photos by the school. This grass which is growing in the traffic roundabout..

..and this Hooded Merganser (I think), on the other side of the river. I don't know why they always stay on that side, but I liked the warm reflections in the water, and hope you can find the tiny Merganser.

Now, for the Lost Lagoon parade. First, the Hooded Merganser, willing to come just a bit closer than the one in North Van.
One of many Mallards.
There were a few swans, but this one seemed determined to be photographed. Its black foot and its flexibility caught my eye. I admit to knowing very little about the Mute Swans in Stanley Park, but I do know they are not native to BC, and that they are pinioned, a procedure which means they will never be able to fly again. The point is to limit them to the one small pond at Stanley Park, and not allow them to mix with native species. I am bothered quite a bit about that. Why bring them into the province and then disable them? Maybe, someone can explain.


I do not know why they seemed more active than usual. Mating behaviour? Frustration at not being able to fly? Putting on a little show for me in the hopes of getting a handout?
Trying to fly?
The American Coot.
This is a different swan. Something endearing about its pose.

The racoon walked by, approaching with a wary look, but not choosing to keep a distance.

More Mallards, bottoms up.

The view as I looked across the pond.
That's if for today. I'll be out of touch for a couple of days until I figure out the photo limit. Have a good week and thanks for reading.

Rainy Saturday with Bill

Before I get to my day with Bill, there is only one bird in this post, and it was taken near my school on Friday. You guessed it. A crow. I think the crows in that area are beginning to know me. They don't seem to fly away from my camera as quickly as they used to.

And, this picture, taken Saturday morning, in a lane on the way to Jericho Park, before Bill and I got together. Wet leaves, shiny and red and beautiful against the green.

I took a few pictures in the park, but the steady drizzle posed quite a challenge to keep my camera dry. I had a white "doggy bag" around it, but it was tricky getting it off, focusing quickly, and putting it back on again. None of my pictures were postable, but I did see some fascinating little birds with white tails. It struck me that there's at least as much wildlife action on rainy days as there is on clear ones.

Three photographers were by the bridge, and I could tell immediately that they were enjoying the day. One took a picture of me. I tried to be gracious, thinking of all the times I have wanted to photograph strangers, but didn't dare ask. The man said he was doing a "Vancouver in the Rain" story. He had a beautifully designed rain cover on his camera, and I decided on an afternoon trip to Broadway Camera to see if I could find something similar.

I took this picture of a Flamingo Plant when Black Jack and I arrived home from our walk. Bill gave it to me over two years ago. I'm not particularly talented with plants, but this one has flourished in many different light conditions. It spent the summer on my balcony, and is now brightening a corner of my sunlight-starved living room. I love it all the time, but especially on rainy days.

I called Bill and we tried, rather aimlessly, to come up with a plan for the rest of the day. I mentioned the camera cover, and also that I was thinking about a new pair of glasses, and we thought a bit about movies, but neither of us were feeling very decisive. Finally, we came to the conclusion that the best plan of action would be lattes at The Wicked Cafe before moving on to a more definite plan of action. Those lattes were particularly good. I rated mine a 10.2.

When we left the cafe, perfect leaves on the ground and on the sidewalks seemed to say, "Look at us." I picked up one, and then another, and then Bill picked up a few, and before we knew it, we were looking for a place with a bit of shelter from the rain, so that I could photograph them. We found a spot nearby, and Bill began to arrange our selection for the photo shoot.
He wasn't quite satisfied with the arrangement, and here, tried a casual approach, gathering the leaves, and dropping them in a pile.
That didn't quite work. We liked this one, but thought it needed something in the centre.
We moved just a bit to the side, for a cement tile background, and decided to tuck the stems under.
A solo shot..
A duet..
And, a trio.
With each arrangement, I felt my energy picking up. We were laughing like two kids, and it felt good. Bill has so many sides to him - the artist, the comedienne, the guy's guy and the sensitive soul. More too, but those were the ones that came forward on Saturday.
As we finished our leaf project, he said, "I'm going to give these leaves a proper rest spot." He laid them gently at the base of a tree.
Black Jack was waiting in the truck, all curled up in her bed, with a towel over her. She posed for a picture. She had no worries about looking funny with the purple towel around her head. Maintaining her body warmth is serious business to her, as is her love for Bill.
But then she yawned, and we laughed some more.

That's it for the day's photos, but it went on to be one that I know will stay with me. Bill held Black Jack, waited while I had my eyes checked (the right one, as I suspected, needed a stronger prescription) at Image Optometry Broadway, picked out new frames, talked to the guys at Broadway Camera, helped me choose a rain cover, encouraged more picture-taking, raved over my Caper's deli supper, walked to Limelight Video, held Black Jack who goes nuts waiting for the biscuit the clerks always give her, and watched a slow-paced, quirky, and somewhat interesting movie (Medicine for Melancholy) with me. Just a perfect rainy Saturday. Thank you, Bill!