Burrard Bridge, Folk Festival, Colony Farm

I'm not on the Burrard Bridge, but I am on a bike, even if it is almost a year ago, and on Vancouver Island.  That's the best I can do, to come up with an image to go with my thoughts about the first day of the experimental cycling routes across the bridge.

So, what are my thoughts?  I'm almost afraid to say this.  In fact, I was afraid to say anything at the Vancouver Cycling Coalition site, where they are begging cyclists to post their positive thoughts (only).  I was also too chicken to say anything on the CBC comment pages.  Part of the reason for that was the sheer number of comments there - 

way too many to read, although I made a valiant effort.  My thoughts?  Here goes....I didn't like it very much.    

Okay, don't yell at me.  I do appreciate the effort, but the cost really bothers me, as do the exacerbated hard feelings between motorists and cyclists.  Going North over the bridge this morning, I was really happy.  The barrier may not be beautiful, but I feel it addresses the problem of safety, which was the only complaint I've had, after more than four years crossing the bridge.  Yes, the bike part was narrower than before, but it was wide enough, and it left lots of room for pedestrians to my right.  Yes, it might have meant a little more time to get across, if a slower cyclist were in front of me, or it might have irritated a faster cyclist behind me, but the bridge just isn't that long, and the few minutes delay that could be caused by a slower cyclist is just not that big a deal.  Why couldn't they have done the same thing on the other side for my trip home?  That huge lane allowed lots of space for speed-demon cyclists to fly past, thrilled to have a faster route.  They reminded me of the drivers who compulsively pass everyone in their path to get their shot of one-up-man-ship for the day.  I felt in more danger from cyclists than drivers.  The old way, with just a barrier added to keep me from being pushed into traffic, would have been cheaper, better PR and just fine with me.  They're, I've said it.

And now, for rant #2 - the Folk Festival at Jericho Park.  As with rant #1, it comes from someone who loves the very thing they are about to not support.  I'm a music teacher for Pete's sake.  I love all kinds of music, including folk, but why does it have to be in one of the most beautiful and delicate nature areas in the city.  Why couldn't it be on city streets, like the Jazz Festival?  I don't get it.  The trauma to the green space has barely begun...  

But already, even though it still looks quite beautiful in many spots, the absence of bird songs and wildlife sightings are noticeable.  Just wait until thousands of loud and littering people try to compete with a kazillion amplifiers to make themselves heard.  They don't really listen to the music, it seems to me.  They yell over it.  I imagine the trauma to birds and beasts, and my heart aches for them.
Ten days to set up, at least a week to take down, and maybe four days of the festival itself.  I'll be honest.  I hate it.

End of rants.  Promise.

Below, a very poor picture, but the first that gives a definite view of a little mouth in the Osprey nest at the foot of Fell Street in North Vancouver.  The parents are working like crazy to keep it fed.  It's humbling to watch them.  

These next five pictures are all of neighborhood blooms taken yesterday and today during my walks with Black Jack.  It amazes me how the gardens change from day to day.  Lately, orange and yellow seem to be everywhere.
Check out the bumble bee.

On Sunday, Bill and I went to Colony Farm.  It is a birder's and photographer's paradise, although my pictures for the day were not very impressive.  My first feeling about the place was mixed.  The long grasses, elderberry  bushes (at least that's what I think they may have been), bird songs and Black Jack's enthusiasm were  all encouraging, but those houses in the background seemed incongruous, to say the least. 
It didn't take long, though, before I knew I would want to return to this spot again and again.

Is this wheat?  I found it beautiful, and Black Jack was fascinated with whatever she thought was hiding in its midst.  I took a lot of pictures of her, but her tail end has never been her more flattering half, so I'll spare you the vision.
My photograph did not do this tree and its surroundings justice, but maybe you can imagine.  
There were all kinds of new birds to discover, but they mostly were heard and not found by me on Sunday.  The best shots I managed to get were these two.

The trip, however, was made very memorable by our encounter with a man I will call "Ship".  He is an extremely talented photographer and even better than that, he cares deeply about his subjects.  He told us the story of this Pied-billed Grebe mother.  I'm sorry the picture is so poor, but I have to show it, because it goes with the story.  

To the left, is a nest in the middle of the river.  Two young grebes sit in that nest, and although they are old enough to swim, they seem, so far, not to have left their home.  To the right is a mother, with two younger children that hatched later.  Her original brood consisted of seven babies, but five of them, along with her husband, were killed by an otter.  She deposited the other two on that nest, and must have told them to stay there.  Her younger two stay in a nest closer to the water's edge, and swim with her when she goes to feed the older ones.  Ship believes her strategy is to keep the two older ones separate, in the hopes of at least being able to save one set, if the otter goes after the other.  It's a tragic story, and again, I am humbled.  I was also touched by the fact that Ship is so aware of the drama and courage and hope in it.  He didn't say that he had given the birds names, as I have been known to do with the herons, but I can't help but suspect he knows those birds more intimately than any I've talked about previously in this blog.   

Here, if you can manage to see her, is the mother feeding one of the younger children.  I hope to go back and do a little better with the picture taking, and I really hope that this family will still be there.  In the mean time, check out Ship's photographs on Flikr.  You will be stunned, I promise.

And finally, to conclude the post, some pictures of Bill with Black Jack.  Here, she is taking advantage of her vantage point to case the area.

...and on the other side...
...nothing so exciting that she can't take a minute to tell Bill she loves him.  This was my favorite shot on Sunday.
Thank you, Bill, for another great day!