THIS IS THE WEEK THAT WAS

Today is Sunday, a restful day. Actually the Bear's whole week is often restful. But it has been particularly good.

First, autumn is in the air. Definitely. We've had an evening of frost, though it didn't bother the pumpkins. (We got those in the afternoon before the frost.)

But the leaves are changing. As more and more of them hit the ground,

the bright autumn colours

become much more dull.

 

Dr. Ron Banks, from Duke University and Duke Medical School (Durum, North Carolina) was up and did a couple of presentations related to medical research, and the place of animals in it. One of the presentations was to the university faculty; the other, at the main public library, for the community. Both were reasonably attended.

On Thursday, J's nephew and his wife came for a visit, bringing their four week old son with them.

Sleepy Bear; sleepy baby

It was not only a chance for us to see them, but for our son and his kids to visit with their cousins.

On Saturday, Bear celebrated another birthday (his 66th), our team won in the Canadian Football League game, and our daughter brought a birthday cake when she came to see the game with us. Bear also got a ton of birthday greetings from friends via Facebook; all much appreciated.

Bear thinks that was a good week.

AUTUMN IS A-COMIN' IN

It is the beginning of autumn in the land of the Bear.

Yes, I know; autumn doesn't really start until September 21, or thereabouts. But, well, autumn is "in the air," so let's go with experienced reality, rather than some astronomic chart.

(BTW, the Australians share something of the same experience. They fervently believe that spring starts September first.  I'm not sure whether this is some kind of universal folie à deux, or something found entirely within the "British" Commonwealth.)

Yet the signs are all here. The "younglings" are returning to school.

(Nutana Collegiate — River City's first high school, located across the street from the Bears' den)

The green leaves of summer are turning to yellow, brown, and red.

It's also Labour Day in Canada, the annual holiday to celebrating the economic and social achievements of workers. In Canada, this has been a calendar event since about 1880.

Part of the Labour Day activity in River City is a big fireworks display. The incendiaries are launched from the Broadway Bridge, a couple of hundred yards downstream from the Bears' Den. They organize the display across the river from our place,

then haul everything up on to the Bridge.

We stand in our corporate box (our balcony) and get an ideal view of the whole thing. No pictures, though; need to keep a sharp eye on the sleepy grandkids.

Nice way to end the summer!

Sadly, I have learned that there will be no Labor (American spelling) Day events across the US this year. Our reporter, Andy Borowitz, tells us that the entire holiday has been outsourced. To China. We Canadians offer our condolences to our American kin, friends, and neighbours on this loss. We hope you don't lose Thanksgiving as well.

Blessings and Bear hugs to all.

SUMMER SOLSTICE (A-Z CHALLENGE)

It's summertime, and the livin' should be easy.

I expect it will be in this part of the world.

All you have to do is think about "How green is our valley."

This is across the street, east of our apartment. You can see a number of condominia behind the trees, and far off in the distance, a 22 story senior's complex. Its about 20 stories higher than the surrounding homes. The home owners fought the development some 40 years ago, arguing that something 22 stories tall was totally out of character with the neighbourhood — which was true. City Council allowed the project to go ahead.

Also, on the right side, near the top you'll see the old Westminster United Church (Presbyterian before it was United). It was sold when the folks at Westminster amalgamated with Grace United (formerly Grace Methodist) — which was named after one of the early church leaders, Grace Fletcher. Westminster has been owned by several church groups; the current congregation is trying to sell the building. It's a big barn of a place, and I suspect it costs a lot of money to operate, particular to heat in the winter.

This is just a bit further up the river bank. The houses you can see in the midst of the urban forest are on Saskatchewan Crescent — a premier address in the early days of the city (and still trying to keep up). There are huge homes up there. HUGE!

The bridge in the foreground, the Broadway Bridge, is one of seven bridges in River City (eight, if you count the one currently under construction). It was built in the 1930s. It was a depression era bridge, built as a "relief" project — you had to be a married man to work on it (i.e., someone with family responsibilities).

The north end of downtown is on the left or west side of the river (and out of the picture). The University Bridge is there, north of the Broadway. University Bridge was designed by an early class of engineers at the University of Saskatchewan, which takes up the east side of the river bank, and runs further east for miles. The one building you can see clearly, in the upper right, is the Arts Tower. It has numerous classrooms and offices used by those in the College of Arts. Less clearly visible is part of Royal University Hospital — long-time teaching hospital, which provided (and still provides) the best care in the Province.

So, that's our view of the valley on Summer Solstice Day, 2011. Solstice, btw, arrived at 1:16 p.m.. I would have taken the pictures then, but there was a mammoth rain shower in progress. Something like a giant fire hose that was spraying water all over the city, trying to extinguish a great mass of tree and grass fire. (Trees and grass, yes; on fire, no.)

Right across the river, to the north, . . . but that's tommorow's story.

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Also brought to you by the letter S:
• surreptitious
• sizzling
• supple
• strange (like the Bear)
• sartiorial

And from the New Phonetic Alphabet, S for Williams.

YES, WE'VE ARRIVED

I'm writing to you from our new locale.

And it's a zoo! (As in crazy busy with bringing the last bits over from the house, unpacking here, and figuring our what goes where.)

But it's a zoo with a view!

I don't have the time to give you a full explanation of these pictures, except to say that the first two pictures are of the downtown riverbank area of our city, and the last picture is looking up the river valley (which runs north-east from downtown). BTW, what you can't see, to the right of the third picture, is our sprawling University Campus; another time.

By time we get fully settled in, I'm sure our sixth-floor suite will seem much less zoo-like.

PLUNDERED!! PILLAGED!!

 Bear's beloved Mountain Ash tree was stripped bare today by a marauding band of ravenous Bohemian Waxwings.

The foraging flock, numbering perhaps a hundred birds,

attacked the tree about 3:30 p.m. local time, 

wave, upon wave, upon wave. 
(Here is a close-up of one.)

By 3:45, only  a few scavengers could be seen,

cleaning up the few remaining berries on the ground.

The activity of the Bohemian Hoard had been reported 

in the local newspaper earlier. 

The onslaught was not unexpected.

J, our  Bear's  beloved spouse, quickly grabbed her camera, clicking photo after photo, mute witness to the onslaught. 

And where was Bear during the melee?

Hibernating in his Den. 

Proving once again that, "you snooze; you lose."

But he'll be delighted by the pictures when he wakes up. 

Very delighted.

After all, it was for events like today's that he planted 

the Mountain Ash in the first place. 

His simple goal — to attract Waxwings.

Report by Sadie B.; photography by J.B.

WHEN IN DOUBT, . . . (3)

The day dawned grey and cold,
sunless,
hoar frosted trees barely visible
in the ice fog;
- 10°C, with a wind chill
almost double that.
"Socked in" as 
the old tyme flyers would say.

By lunch time
Miss Sadie was vocally bored,
and insisted on playing
in the fresh winter air.

And so we did.

Her frozen toy
stung my hands.
Even Her Ladyship
found it cold in her mouth.
Undeterred,
she ran to wherever it landed,
and galloped it back —
a flowing keyboard
of black on white
in the frigid yard.

While overhead,
the gutter ravens,
having moved south for the winter,
cried to one another.

Now, Sadie calmly sleeps
in her favourite chair,
by the warm stove,
awaiting another run,
latter on, perhaps,
not knowing the forecast
is for freezing rain,
which will make everything
treacherous,
for travel,
or even play
in our sanctuary.

WHOA! WHAT'S HAPPENING?

What is this bright light shining into my den?

What's this puddle of water beside where I'm sleeping?

Spring already?

Can't be; I haven't lost any weight.

OK. I'm out of my den, but the sun is way too bright. It's hard on my eyes. I'll look the other way.

Right. Clear blue sky — gorgeous! Sunny and warm. I'll bet it's 15°C. And the snow is all gone.

Time to stretch way up, and yawn, and shake my head, and try to come alive.

There are a couple of squirrels, running around the spruce trees, checking for any more seed cones.

I hear a chickadee, and a nuthatch. There are two thieving magpies chasing each other, practically right in front of my face. I hear a Blue Jay, right, . . . oh, there he is.

There's a Mountain Ash tree, with quite a few bright orange berries. I must have missed that one. Yeah; I was getting pretty dozy.

Seeing as I'm up, I might as well have something to eat. Those berries will be tasty.

Oh, but I'm stiff already. Grumble, trundle, mumble, trundle, mumble. …

Sigh.

I really hate it when my solar alarm clock goes off at the wrong time!

IN AUTUMN, A MAN'S MIND TURNS TO …

cleaning up the yard and getting ready for winter. Which I was doing this afternoon at our micro-holding. (For those of you who are not familiar, I think our property is really too small to fit the classic definition of a "small holding"; hence, it's a "micro-holding.")

When I work outside, Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, comes with me. First we play a bit. Then we light a fire, into which I can toss odds and ends of stuff that need to be removed and can be burned.

Then I get down to work. And Miss Sadie waits for me to be done with the work silliness, and come to play — which is the important thing to do outside.

When I need to take a break, we play.

There was a lot of brush to clean up at the back. I didn't take a picture of it, but you can see where the leaves are. That's where the brush was.

And there was some other stuff to clean up, too. Like garbage that blows in from the back lane. (The automated garbage pickup isn't always that thorough.)

It has to be bagged and returned to the garbage, along with bits of glass and metal which uncannily pop up to the surface of the earth from time to time. And I need to do something with Miss Sadie's "leavings" (otherwise called, by some, "doggy-doo").

Then, the wood pile. It was a mess. Now we've got it organized, and partly tarped. The one challenge is that there are mice living under there, somewhere. I only know about them because Miss Sadie keeps trying to find the mice, even climbing up on top of the wood pile.

Last job, cover the rose bush with fallen tree leaves, to protect it over the winter. (This was the first year since we transplanted it to our yard that it actually bloomed.)

We had beautiful magenta roses. I hope we get them again next year.

All in an afternoon's work. Or play (if you see it from Miss Sadie's perspective).

SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT …

 The sun is high. The sky is bright blue, with no clouds. 

The air is warm (about 10°C, or 50°F). 

The Elms and Poplars have lost most of their leaves. 

 Even the Larches are shedding their needles (leaves) on cue. 

(Larches are the only coniferous trees to loose all their leaves

at one time.)

While I can usually walk only about a kilometre at a time,

Sadie and I have done three today,

two this morning, another one this evening.

Too nice a day to be inside.

I hope you had a wonderful day, too!

ONLY GOD CAN MAKE A TREE

No, Bear isn't waxing poetic like Joyce Kilmer. Bear is just worried about the loss of trees, and what can be done about that loss.

I've posted something about that on my Bears Noting blog.

If you love trees, take a look.

Thanks.

DIY OF A DIFFERENT SORT

Despite the freezing weather last night, and the fact that there is still snow on the ground, one member of our community was very busy.

Yup, the resident Beaver was doing his thing,
leaving all the evidence behind.

The really interesting thing was that he decided to drop a tree right beside the walking path, . . .

meaning he (or she) had to climb up a fairly steep 25 foot embankment, drop the tree, and haul all the goods back down.

(This picture doesn't do justice to the steepness of the climb.)

But that wasn't the first time.

The night before, Beaver had been busy too.

J and K (our granddaughter) found this work

when they were walking home to our son's last evening.

This was, actually, just a bit of an afterthought.

 The real prize lay about 50 feet north.

Those six were about the diameter of your forearm. Not small stuff at all. Not only cut, but hauled down to the river.

So far, the lower trail (just a muddy footpath along the river's edge) hasn't been walkable. Now, I'm going to have to go down there and find out where the Beaver's lodge is.

I don't think Beaver will mind a visit from Bear,
though Sadie might be upsetting.

PHRIDAY PHOTOS

WINTER TRANSFORMATION

Temperatures hit -20°C last night (-4°F). Under such conditions, our world is transformed -- at least along the river. The cold air hitting the warmer water raises huge clouds of mist.



The sand bar on which the ducks and geese are accustomed to gathering turns into an island of snow and ice.


And the world around us is turned into something of a fairy castle -- suitable for Fairy Nuff, and others.


Ah, yes; it IS that time of year. Soon it will be too cold for taking Sadie out, except for the shortest of walks. Even the birds have gone into hiding.

"LET'S GO FOR A WALK"

Those are magical words in Sadie's ears.

For those of you not familiar with her story, Sadie came to our home to walk me.

(Now, mind you, that's not the whole story, but it's a good beginning.)

So, three times a day, we go for a walk (unless I'm in a lot of pain).

"But where do you go?" you might ask.

Well, I'm glad you asked, because I'm going to show you.

We're one house from the end of the block (where there is a "T" intersection). So we go to the end of the block and turn right (head west).


At the end of this block there is a park, which I've mentioned before. (We'll turn left and head south.)

(Holiday Park)

On the east side of the road is Abbeyfield House, a home for seniors. I have known the manager for a number of years; one of the staff I have known (through Scouting) since our earliest years in Saskatoon.

Across from Abbeyfield, the Park continues. (You've seen the reverse angle of this picture.)


At the end of the block, we get to the Bowerman House.



This was the "hunting lodge" of Allan Bowerman, head of one of our city's early prominent families. It was quite a bit outside the city when it was built (in 1907), at the edge of a ravine, not far from the river.

Then, things changed.


It's 1925, and a Tuberculosis Sanatorium is built next to the Bowerman property. It was far enough out of the city to be "safe" but close enough to be easily serviceable from the city. Bowerman, a land developer, had sold the "lodge" a few years earlier, when the city went from boom to bust. The home became the residence of the Sanitorium Director. (That land from the Bowerman house, up to and including Abbeyfield House, held residences for other doctors at "The San." )

(Site of the former main buildings at "The San.")

When the buildings were demolished in the mid 1980s, the arrangement at the time is that this would stay a park, and no new buildings would go up, except where that had already been buildings. One building has now been put in place.


This is on the west side of the property, where the Nurses' Residence was located. (In one of the congregations I served in the city, there was a woman who had been a nurse at The San during WW2.) This building has some of the outline features of the old residence. (The architect must have done his/her homework.)

This is a low-rent public housing project. Very nicely done. Not at all your typical "Council flats."


We turn our backs on the housing, and walk the trail to the south-east, until we come to the river.


There are still a few geese who have not left, yet. In fact, there will be geese on the river all winter. A mile (more or less) upstream from here there is an electricity generating plant, named in honour of HRM Elizabeth II. The "Queen E Power Plant" (as it is known locally) used coal to generate power through turbines. Those were converted more recently to natural gas. But the plant still needs water (primarily for cooling, I understand). So cold water is taken out of the river, and it is replaced by warm water. No pollution, I'm told; just water exchange. Hence, the geese have a relatively nice place.

You'll also notice ice pans beginning to form on the river. That starts at about -10°C. If we get warm weather, those little thin sheets disappear. But in the cold of winter, the river will freeze right over, except for openings where the current is strongest.

From here, we turn left, and head north for about half a kilometre.


The "Turret house" is interesting. It was built as a modified A-frame house. The original owner, so the story goes, had a piano, which was to move to the upper floor. But the stairs were not big enough. Hence the turret was added on, so the piano could be hauled upstairs.

To this point, we've travelled about a kilometre. If I want to cut the walk short, particularly if I'm having trouble walking, we can turn left here. Our property is located across the back lane from the Turret House, so we're within 100 yards of home at this point.

(To be continued.)