Winter On The Island

Winter on the island can be very bleak looking. The ponds are frozen, but never enough to walk on safely. The woodlands lose all their covering and only the brambles are solid enough to block the view. Still, the air is full of birds, especially small songbirds. During the morning two male eagles fought each other in the sky. Their loud shrieks and calls changed as they flew higher, then lower, returning to trees near my, and then flying across the water again. The brambles take on the shape of approaching waves.

Deep Winter In The Garden

The cold has reached below zero, and the garden is empty as can be. Half-finished tasks wait to be completed. A pheasant, red ring, flies by unexpectedly and startles me. Small birds flutter from bush to bush, looking for any remaining seeds.

The Tree Fort by the Memorial Bridge

Recently I posted a photo of this tree fort on a sunny day, but early this morning there was a fog warning and I rushed down the the inlet where I knew the fog would be thick. I took several photos of forts built along the railway track, but this one, with the bridge in the background, was my favourite.

A Walk in the Woodlands after the Rain.

Here in British Columbia it has been raining for 7-8 days straight. The weather reports says to expect another 7-10 days of rain. When I saw the rain had stopped, even if just for an hour or so, I knew this would be a time to take some images and drove in the dark to Richmond to a small part area that is maybe 3 city blocks square. There was a bit of waiting while the sun came up, and then I walked quickly into the woods in case the clouds totally lifted. I went down the single path that makes its way between the trees and underbrush. There are lot’s of birch trees, but most are dying because the bog has nowhere to flow and being surrounded by streets never really dies out with the change of seasons and the roots just rot our. As they fall in a windstorm some of their white branches can become caught in the web of other branches. In the photos the broken bits look like they are magically floating, refusing to leave the sky.

The Monument Without a Purpose

Looking out over the Pacific, the monument has nothing to say. People get off the road, park and walk by to see the ocean, but ignore the obvious.

The Dead Tree Tells Its Story

Cold has frozen the creek and floods from the beaver dams, along with the snow, have flattened the grass. Things usually hidden in the undergrowth are seen in the winter, and they tell winter tales. Most of the fallen trees still have large amounts of soil attached to their roots, but this one has little left other than the skeleton. Even in death it seems to have suffered.