What is...

I looked through the pictures of this post, and realized the true stories behind the images are sometimes deceiving.  A small google search using the words "emotion" and "birds" took me to the work of John Gould, Thomas Bewick and John James Audubon, all well known for their studies of birds in nature.  This article about Gould highlights his response to Bewick and Audubon.  Gould leaned more to Bewick's version of domestic bliss, rather than to Audubon's more violent depictions.  He did acknowledge the validity of Audubon's approach with less sugar-coated backgrounds in some of his pictures, but even here, "ascribed [any obvious violence] to an excess of nurturing and love.

Interestingly, my little search also took me to an article about the Simpsons, and this quote:

 The "What is" is the actual maddening complexity of human nature filled with greed, insolence, power-struggle, jealousy and pettiness. According to Bruce, and the best The Simpsons have to offer, by ignoring the imperfections and fears of our world and replacing them with rose-colored fallacies we create the framework for disappointment and disillusionment. "There is only what is," scoffed Bruce in 1964. "The what-should-be never did exist, but people keep trying to live up to it. 

With some of those thoughts in mind, here are some photos taken over the past couple of days.

MIne, all mine.

I am the king of the castle and I will steal whatever is owed to me.

I can fly! 

What are you looking at?

You with the camera.  Do you have anything for me?

Where are you, Papa?  I need food.  Now! 

  Contentment for some, but others plot....

I itch.  O man, I itch!

Look at me.  I rock! 

You come down from there right now!

All right.  I'll go get my own food.

I want up there too.

Hard work, this!  I'll try another route.

I give up.  This spot is not perfect, but it will have to do.

On the way home, I stopped at Stanley and Stella's tree at the heronry.  This youngster is learning to branch hop, a second step in learning to fly.  (Step one is staying on one branch and flapping the wings.)

Taking off.

Fly to the branch above.

The landing.

Another youngster negotiating a landing.

Yikes!

Phew!

Oh no.  Papa's arriving.  Better get back to the nest and grab the food first!

Papa flies in, his mouth full.

Man, those kids are getting big and all they do is squawk and fight.  

 This parenting stuff is for the birds!  Think I'll just drop it off and run.

The same day, later in the evening at Jericho.

I am a kingfisher and I am hungry!  

I am hungrier!  I will steal the fish from the fishermen at this dock, and from you the kingfisher too!

The lady on the dock is hungry too.  She wants to catch and hold on to the light.

Light, schmight.  I'm the hungriest of all.

Look at us.  Just add light, a few shadows, and we make even this ugly garage wall beautiful.

Home, sweet home.

I will not look at your camera.  I repeat, I will not look at your camera.

*I may be the world's worst caption writer, so feel free to add suggestions.  Thanks for reading!

Osprey

Yesterday, I finally saw the osprey nest that several people had told me about.  It was a dull day, so the pictures are very poor, but here they are.  My heart rate sped up considerably as I watched them.  A man, Robert, was there as well, taking pictures and kindly telling me what he has learned about them.  He feels sure there is one baby in the nest, although even with his more sophisticated camera, he hasn't been able to document that as yet.

Here is a view of the area in North Vancouver, not far from my school.  The mother is in the nest on the closest pylon, the father is on the next one, and way out at the end, is a cormorant.

Mother
Father
"You get over here right now!"
The happy couple.
Father decided it was time for a nice bath.
Hard to make out which end is which, but he was having a great time.  (Clicking on the photo will enlarge it.)
Aa-a-a-ah!
Last but not least, the head.
Then off to...
...look in the window of this boat and dry off.
Back to the pylon for some more drying time
All for now, but sure hope to follow this little family for some time to come.

There were other bright spots to a dull yesterday.  There were some seagulls and some geese and one crow silhouette that I may post when there's more time.  I also saw Cocoa Chanel.  The pictures of her yesterday were too poor to post, but this link will take you to a story about her that I did several months ago.  I hope to see her again as well.    

Part 1: Herons, crows, Maine Coons and some dogs on Friday

Three posts at one shot, to catch up on more than a week of bikes, birds, and beasts.  I give this post a title, and then begin with a photo that doesn't fit.  These were not taken on Friday, and they have nothing to do with herons, crows, Maine Coons or dogs, but they caught my eye and made me happy.

And now, the herons.  Friday was an unusually early finish at school, so I had time for a good stopover at Stanley Park, as I headed home.  It was impossible to tell what is happening in the area where I had previously watched Serena and Sam.  This nest is close to where I thought their nest was.  What amazed me about the picture is how big the "babies" are.  I think the centre heron is an adult, and the ones on either side are kids.  I can't imagine how they all manage to sleep in that nest.  Can you?

I have learned a new viewing spot, where I can photograph the action in Stella and Stella's tree during the afternoons.  There are at least three babies in that tree, and probably more that I didn't manage to see.  This one was waiting anxiously for a parent to return.
Then it was joined by a sibling.
Soon, the two of them were squabbling, perhaps over who gets to sit higher or at the better lookout.
Then, I noticed this one at the very top of the tree.  It looked to my left...
... to my right...
... up...
... and even higher up...
"Is that you, papa?"
"I'm really, really hungry!"
"Are you feeding my brothers and sisters first?  No fair!"
I never did get to see the parent.  I think it must have flown in from the other side of the tree.  I did see this one though.  It had fallen from the tree, but was unhurt, and enjoying the tennis match.
It focused on the game for a long time...
... but finally noticed me and my camera.  I was sitting in the grass, maybe 5 feet away from it.
It watched me curiously, but did not appear to be upset.

I found its legs both humorous and fascinating.

The heron stayed there for a long time.  In fact, it was still there when I left.  A parks board person came by, and phoned the heron people, who told her to leave it alone.  They said it is big enough and strong enough, that it will probably find sufficient mice and other food on the ground to survive until it is strong enough to fly.  

A crow was nearby, busy with its own agenda, but also noting my presence.

When I arrived home, I saw Ollie, my upstairs neighbor's cat, sitting on the balcony.

He was busy with his own agenda too, watching the action in the courtyard.  If you look closely, you can see a bike hanging from the balcony wall.  (Just to remind you that I haven't forgotten about the bike part of this blog.)
Black Jack and I went for yet another walk at Jericho.  There, we met some of the residents of our building.  Here is Vegas.  He is a working dog, used to posing for photos.  He had just  been for a swim, and was hanging out with his buddies...
... Pollo (on the left) and Castor.  They weren't as cooperative about posing.  There were much better things to do, but Pollo obliged with a half sit, and Castor agreed to sit, but let me know that looking at the camera was way too much to ask when there were so many more interesting things to do.
Pollo finally lay down, hoping to get the picture-taking stuff over quickly.  Castor let me know exactly how he was feeling about that camera.
We finally left them playing together with a huge stick, and continued on our way.  Black Jack had much the same attitude as Castor about the camera.  She agreed to sit, but could not tear her eyes away from the rabbit patch.
When we were just about ready to leave the park, we met a couple with their dog, Mickey.  We've met them before at Jericho, so it was rather like meeting up with old friends.  Then, as we stood talking, we saw a man with this beauty.  His name is Buster and he is 16 years old.  His human takes him every evening for at least an hour walk.  He walks free of leash, and is only picked up if he begins to tire.  I learned that he is a Maine Coone.  Now, I'm thinking Ollie is probably the same breed.  They are truly gorgeous, but can apparently have a few health problems.  Buster is fed to the best and is very, very much loved.  His human told me that he feels jealous of people whose pets are young.  At the same time, he noted how much he has learned from Buster's enthusiasm for life.  I remember that feeling when Scott was getting older.  Watching an older animal savor every moment is a life experience I wouldn't trade, but not one I want to revisit too soon.  I left the park, feeling fortunate and honored to have shared moments with humans who give their animals the best life has to offer.  

Part 2: Home again

Most of the pictures in this entry were taken shortly after I arrived home from Ottawa, but this first one was taken before I left.  Bill, Black Jack and I were walking in the neighborhood when these scooters caught Bill's eye, and then my imagination.  A couple perhaps?  Pink for her and aqua for him?  The bikes don't look new.  Something endearing about the way they sit, side by side, angled so perfectly in their one-car parking spot.

I think this must be Ned, of Jericho Park.  I was happy to see him, sitting in some trees near the pond.
It's a rare day that Black Jack and I don't visit Jericho at least once.  I take pictures of the same places over and over, but they always feel new to me.  At the front of this picture is a beaver dam that I have just noticed at the foot of the bridge.  About 8 years ago, my dog, Scott, and I watched a family of beavers for a couple of months, at a spot just a short distance away from this one by the bridge.  There were a lot of complaints about the trees being felled, and someone told me the beavers had been relocated.  But if they were, a new one has taken up residence.
This stump is still there to tell the tale of those beavers that Scott and I watched years ago.  I remember the tree, with a few bite marks, and then, each day, added ones, until the park staff had to cut it down because it was in danger of falling. 

Now, I notice that most of the trees are protected by wire netting.  Still the beavers seem to find enough material to build their dams.  I saw one beaver a few nights ago, but it disappeared before I could get a photo.  I keep hoping I'll see it again.  One lady told me she saw it swimming under the bridge with a branch in its mouth.  That would be something to see.

Just as we were coming to the end of our walk, we met a lady with a large black dog.  Black Jack and the dog checked each other out, and the lady began to speak to me, as though we had known each other for ever.  "Did you see that beautiful cloud? she asked. "If I tried to paint that, it would look fake." Then she led me to the spot where I could best view it, and I took a picture.  

On Monday, I stopped at Stanley Park on the way home from work, for a quick look to see if there were any changes at the heronry.  There was lots of clucking and squawking in the trees, but the foliage made photos and indentification difficult. 

I did see a racoon very high up in one tree.  They go looking for trouble (or at least it seems that way to me), although it's a bit surprising at this time in the season, as many of the babies are almost as big as their parents.
It was interesting to watch its downward route, first sliding, tummy facing  in...
...then dropping into the crook of the branches where it could stabilize...
... and turn around for the rest of the journey.
I left the heronry and biked along Beach Avenue, stopping for a moment to look at the seagulls playing in the wind..
... and take a photo of the flowers.  Interesting that those flower beds have been empty for quite some time.  Weeks ago, I took pictures of the gorgeous tulips, but they only lasted for a few days.  Shortly after that photo, I came along to see empty beds.  I love the flowers, but wonder at the expense and energy when they last such a short time.  Maybe something went wrong this year, or maybe that's the way it is supposed to be.    
Here is my shadow, taking a picture of the pond.  Bill's shadow is at my right, and if you look really, really closely, maybe you can tell that Black Jack is in his arms.  He cannot bear to pull on her neck, so when she goes after things like food in the grass...
... or rabbits...

... he usually picks her up.

I love the way she sits so comfortably and confidently in his arms.

I also loved the way these ducks were splashing, as they paddled furiously to get bottoms up.

I've taken pictures of the pink flowers in the pond before, but they continue to fascinate me.  They seem a bit like what we used to call lily pads when I was a kid.

Here's a close-up of one of them.

Bill stepped down to the pond's edge, hoping to figure out what was fascinating Black Jack so much, but the source of her interest remained a mystery.

When we came back to the courtyard of my apartment building, we saw a cat in the tree, and its human close by.  We were a little worried, until she explained that she had placed the cat there, and it was having a great time.
We learned that the cat's name is Toni, changed from "Tony" when she was neutered and discovered to be a female.  We also could see that she is well supervised, and were told that she is never left out after dark.
Toni was having the time of her life...
...and so was I, taking pictures of her.
I have photographed her before.  Black Jack often notices her when we walk by.  But this was the first time to see her in a tree.
She was gaining confidence by the second, and headed higher and higher.  Fortunately, the tree isn't a huge one.

We also learned that she comes when called, as some dogs do.  I wish Black Jack were as responsive.

What a happy cat.

I wondered when she eyed this thinner branch, but all was well, and she was at her usual perch on the ground the next morning.
I took the final two pictures of this post on another Jericho walk.  I know, if I were to look back over this blog, many of the pictures would appear almost, if not, identical.  Once, I read a blog by a fellow who promised himself he would take one crow picture every day for a year.  I've since tried to find that blog, but it seems to resist the google search.  Still, I remember it, and am comforted that even if they seem identical, each time I am moved to admire a bird, it is new for me.

Part 3: Away

Flying to Ottawa a week ago Thursday, I took pictures from the window.  I can't look at white, fluffy clouds below me, without thinking of my mother.  She loved to see them.

I spent the night at my sister's house in Ottawa, and the next day we drove to Gananoque for her daughter's wedding. It was at a beautiful bed and  breakfast called Sleepy Hollow.  Across the road was a park with a waterfall and two swans.
No people pictures, except for this hairdo.  All the hairdos, manicures and pedicures were done at a great little salon on the main street in Gananoque.  Lovely town, and right next door to the salon was a bakery and coffee shop.  I had fun sipping lattes and taking lots of pictures.  For some reason, I have never had a manicure or a pedicure.  I seem to be missing that "get together with the girls" gene, but loved being a part of the conversations, laughter and warmth.
The wedding was in the garden at the back of the bed and breakfast.  My sister's husband comes from a family of musicians.  His mother is no longer living, but she started a family band that continues today.  One tenor sax, one electric bass, a keyboard, voices that went straight to the heart, and love songs that have stood the test of time blended with bird sounds.  The saxophone case caught my eye.  So much history there.

The garden had a little pond, and a family of chipmunks that I was never able to catch in a photograph.

The lady who ran the bed and breakfast kindly showed me the chipmunk's home, an easy to miss little hole in the ground.  I waited there for quite some time, but no luck with a photo, although I had several fly-by scampers that tantalized me.   
Lots of goldfish in the pond, and a frog to watch over them.
There were a few insects around as well.
Going home was a bit rougher ride.  I could see storm clouds brewing as I waited at Ottawa airport.  By the time we were in the air, they were looking magnificent.  

We seemed to be flying away from them, and into blue sky.  I don't usually like to say negative things on this blog, but my experiences with Air Canada have been terrible.  Westjet, on the other hand, has always treated me well.
More white, fluffy clouds and a lot of thinking about my mother.  
Flying over the Rockies was spectacular.

There were three take-off/landings on the way home,with two stops, one in Winnipeg and one in Edmonton, both in very windy conditions.  Years ago, I used to go with a friend in a small plane, even accompanying him for practice sessions when he was working on his stunt flying license.  That always seemed like great fun, but flying in jets usually makes me a bit nervous.  Strangely, taking pictures took away that fear.    Still, landing in Vancouver, the place that has become home for me, felt good.
Fascinating, how many mechanical parts are needed, just to operate the wing flaps.  Flying will always be something of a miracle for me.      
The weekend was one that will stay with me for a very long time.  I saw a little bit of the world from what I like to think was at least partly a bird's perspective, but most importantly, I had the opportunity to connect with my sister and her family and friends.  Her daughter and son are honest, fun-loving, kind human beings, and although I knew that, there's nothing like observing those qualities in person.

Businesses, birds beasts and blooms

Walking with Black Jack a few evenings ago, we encountered this cat.  It was lying on the sidewalk at a street corner.  It watched Black Jack calmly.  Black Jack tried to be cool, but wasn't successful for long.

Two or three minutes later, we saw this cat.  Again, it was about as calm as a cat could be.  Poor Black Jack.  The ones that stare calmly just about put her over the edge.  
Some time ago, I stopped at the Garden Party Flower Shop at the corner of West 4th and Alma. I was looking for a hanging basket.  I'm not sure that hanging baskets are the main focus of Amy's business, but I could tell that she really wanted to make me happy.  She asked me about the colors I like, and we exchanged several e-mails after that. I still don't have my hanging basket, because Amy is searching for the perfect one.  However, she e-mailed and asked me to stop by.  She had a gift for me.  She said she wanted me to have something beautiful to look at while I was waiting for the basket, and knew I loved the color blue.  Seeing that lovely orchid gives me a jolt of pure happiness.  I have come to appreciate, lately, the people who run small businesses who genuinely love to see their customers happy. 
On Saturday, I had my hair cut by Majid at Spring Hair Design on 10 Avenue.  I had to cancel my last appointment, as it was scheduled for the day after my cycling accident.  I didn't reschedule, as I dreaded the thought of letting anyone touch my head.  But, I will be attending my niece's wedding in Ottawa this coming weekend, and there was no more stall time.  Majid is a gem.  He is kind, gentle, and, like Amy, truly wants his customers to be happy when they leave.  I was.  Actually, I felt like a new person. 
Bill walked Black Jack while I was at the salon, and then sat with her in his lap, until I was finished.  He is so supportive, sometimes I can hardly believe my good fortune.  This next part is positively amazing! We went directly from the hairdresser's to a clothing store called Changes, and Bill sat for ages, while the staff there found two outfits for me.  Other women shopping in the store were ready to kidnap him and take him home to give their husbands some tips.    
A (handsome) man and his truck.
These flowers were near The Wicked Cafe.  With the sun on them, they shimmered like magic.  
The next 8 pictures were taken at Jericho on evening lately when i walked with Black Jack.  I wonder if this heron was EvenSong's Ned.
This bird seemed so small in that tall grass.
The ducklings are growing and becoming more independent.
Black Jack loves to gain altitude any way she can for her observations.
So many shades of green...
... and one beautiful, orange tree.
The sign on the post made me smile.

I thought of the fun the gardener may have had arranging these plants in a circle. 

These were on a street walking home from Jericho.  The combination of blue and purple works for me.

These are the clothes I bought at Changes.  I like the people in this store so much, I sometimes feel, as Bill said, that I will never need to shop anywhere else again.  I know it's a little strange to lay out the clothes on my bed and take a picture of them, but that's how happy I felt.  This from someone who hates shopping. Black Jack loves to go to Changes as well (sometimes, they give treats), but I guess the attraction doesn't have much to do with the clothes. 

And, another angle to show off the blue/purple flowers, and conclude this post.

Part 3 - Mostly blooms

Yesterday, I stopped at The Wicked Cafe for a latte after getting my stitches out.  If time allows, I like to go to The Wicked after dentist or doctor appointments.  I like to go there any time, but planning for that treat almost has me looking forward to things I would otherwise dread.  Bet you thought this post was about blooms.  I'll try to get back on track.  The connection to the post topic is a man named Thomas Berry.  He died on June 1st.  I'll bet I'm one of the few people on earth who hadn't heard of him, but his picture and a story were on the front page of a newspaper section that I picked up to read with my coffee.  There were a few quotes on the page, and the first one to catch my eye was: 

 What happens to the outer world happens to the inner world. If the outer world is diminished in its grandeur, then the emotional, imaginative, intellectual, and spiritual life of the human is diminished or extinguished. Without the soaring birds, the great forests, the sounds and coloration of the insects, the free-flowing streams, the flowering fields, the sight of the clouds by day and the stars at night, we become impoverished in all that makes us human.

Sometimes, I wonder why I feel so excited about a tree or a flower or a bird or a sunset.  That quote jumped off the page and sent me home to find out more about Thomas Berry.  Googling his name brought pages and pages of web sites, but I particularly enjoyed this youtube interview.  It was a bit slow getting into, but when he talked about Nature Deficit Disorder, there seemed to be a connection to some of the unformed ideas that have been running through this blog, almost in spite of me.  At the very least, the newpaper article and interview made me feel less apologetic about devoting this post to blooms.  

I feel somewhat sorry that I can give little information about these photos except that they caught my eye and made me happy.  For now, that will have to do.  It would be great to learn some of the names of the blooms, though, so If any reader has time to point out a few, it would be much appreciated. 

I saw these last night on 1st Avenue, near Tatlow Park.  They seemed blue to my eye at the time, although they appear more purple on the screen.

This was also taken last night, and also near Tatlow Park.  I call it Perfect Bloom #1
I am fairly certain this is a poppy.  It was on a small street near Jericho Park.
Bill has been noticing a flowering tree that he thought was called Dogwood.  The flowers are usually white, but I saw these pink ones, also near Tatlow Park.  If it is Dogwood, I guess the blooms can be different colors.
These bushes are near the heronry in Stanley Park.  It takes a lot to pull my attention away from the herons, but early in June, with the sun shining on them, the blooms were magnificent.
One thing that strikes me as curious, is that I take so little time to grow and tend plants myself.  I have a few at home, and from time to time, they do well, but at other times, they are positively neglected.  Right now, I am working to bring back to life a plant that my mother had in her apartment in Montreal.  When she died, I brought a few "slips" (that's what she used to call them.  Is that term still used?) back to Vancouver.  For a while, the plant was doing really well, but lately, I have had to take a few healthy bits from the sad looking main plant, in an effort to root them and start over.  For some reason, it seems an important connection to her to keep that plant alive.  That need is again curious, since I could not say that she loved her plants.  In fact, hers were often neglected as well.  All that to say, I really appreciate the people who work so hard in their gardens.  

These were at the corner of a street, barely even on a property, but someone has taken time to keep them in beautiful shape.  
I do not remember where I saw this one, but there is such promise in a bud.
Here is the white plant Bill noticed and thought was called Dogwood. 
This was on 3rd Avenue, a couple of blocks east of Alma.  I love it. 
I've forgotten where I saw this one, but remember I couldn't pass by without stopping.  Something about that one coral star.  Will the green ones surrounding it also change color?
I think this would be called a wild rose.  They are growing near my school and smell absolutely wonderful.  Very thorny, so they are definitely a smell but don't touch plant for me.
I left the heronry one day in a rush to get home, but couldn't pass by these without stopping.  The sun was shining on them and the bees were loving them.  I have no idea what they are.  Here is the close-up version...
... and the group perspective.
Perfect bloom shot #2

Perfect bloom shot #3 focuses on one of the above.  The sun was determined to show it at its best.

These are just a few blocks away from where I live.  They look like little jewels to me.

There is a bee at the center of one of these blooms.  Camouflage at its best.
I remember when I was a child, being told I must never combine red with pink.  I guess this gardener on Fell Street in North Vancouver either never heard that advice, or decided to ignore it.  I'm glad.
Another red-pink combination.  Or maybe deep rose and pink.  These were in the next garden to the ones I call jewel flowers.
Last weekend, Bill and I went to a street festival in East Vancouver.  I saw this plant and found it to have a powerful-peaceful beauty.

This is a shot of a pond at Jericho.  They are impossible to see here.  They may not even show in the clicked-on enlargement, but there are pink blooms in the water.

This was on a street corner by a bus stop at Alma and 4th.  Another jewel-like bloom.
This tree is on 1st Avenue, a block or two east of Alma.  There is no way to do it justice with my camera.  It is as huge and breath-takingly magnificent as some of the ancient trees in Stanley Park.  Here, I was able to show only the very top of it.
Here is the trunk of the same tree. Even with both shots, there is much of the tree that isn't shown.  Do you see the one small beast sneaking into the picture.
There it is again.  I couldn't resist giving you a better look.
This is my favorite garden.  It's not far from where I live.
Perfect bloom shot #4
This tree is by the pond at Jericho.  There was perfect light to show off its splendor.

"The universe is a collection of subjects, not objects. Everything has a voice, it speaks - a tree, a bird, whatever, it has a voice. 

Another quote by Thomas Berry to conclude the post.  The geese, the sunset and the pink clouds in the last three pictures all seemed to slip past the bloom topic in spite of me.  His words gave them permission.