Where is Winter?

The question in the title might be a moot point for some of you, but here on the west coast, we are enjoying a very warm winter due to a strong El Niño system. We've had a lot of gloomy rainy days followed by sunny bright ones. On the sunny days we head outdoors. 

On Saturday afternoon we walked up Christmas Hill for a view of our city. Across the Strait to the south the white peaks of the Olympic Peninsula of our neighbours formed a line across the horizon. To the west, Mount Baker, also in the USA, glowed as the sun dipped low and a faint moon stood out against the darkening sky. 

On Sunday afternoon the good weather took us to the waterfront along Dallas Drive, along with many other walkers out to enjoy the sunshine. It's not that warm, really, 10-12 degrees Celsius, but we saw several people barefoot on the beach, others in shorts, and one hardy young man swimming! He was in the water for a very long time, it seemed to me, and he strolled out, not rushing for a blanket or towel as I would have done. 

The caption of this photo might be "The one that got away" for the crab wriggled mightily and eventually escaped despite the desperate grab of the gull's beak.

At Clover Point pigeons flew dark against the eastern sky, then wheeled and circled to the west where the light illuminated their wings. A single male pigeon alighted on a lamp post and was soon joined by a female pigeon. Immediately, the male began showing off. He jumped onto the green bit on top of the lamp, turned round and round, bobbed his head up and down, and tried desperately to impress the lady. She seemed very unimpressed, and if pigeons could yawn, she would have. After a bit, the male gave up and just stood there, head to the wind, perhaps thinking of his next tactic.

“Surely everyone is aware of the divine pleasures which attend a wintry fireside; candles at four o'clock, warm hearthrugs, tea, a fair tea-maker, shutters closed, curtains flowing in ample draperies to the floor, whilst the wind and rain are raging audibly without.” 

― Thomas De Quincey

After we arrived home I made a lemon loaf and we had tea and cake. Delicious and restorative, beside the fire, even on a sunny afternoon! 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf. 

November Celebrations

Last night we moved the clocks back to Standard Time. As I write, it's nearing 5 pm and darkness begins to cloak the landscape. Trees toss their branches, littering streets and gardens with leaves in golden shades. Soon we'll close the curtains and withdraw into coziness.

Over the past day or two a Pineapple Express from the South Pacific blew through bringing heavy rain, wind, and warm temperatures. In my garden roses continue to bud and bloom, although the full flowers droop under the weight of rain. The pink dahlias produce enough flowers for me to clip a small bouquet each week. Yesterday I discovered a few raspberries, not as sweet as summer's fruit, but still "very tasty" according to a six-year-old who spent the night and enjoyed the berries with her breakfast. 

This hydrangea blossom clearly misunderstood the memo about November. She looks a little uncertain and young alongside the mature and weathered blooms. 

After a very wet night the sun streamed into the living room this morning. I like a tray on the coffee table for corralling things like coasters, pencils, and remotes. A tray is easy to pick up and move elsewhere if the table is needed for drawing, playing a game, or other important tasks. 

This afternoon we celebrated three birthdays that occur within two weeks. Our son made the cake and I wish I'd taken a picture of a cut slice. He made a Russian Honey Cake, composed of 8 thin layers that have a taste similar to graham wafers and a whipped cream/sour cream filling and icing. It was delicious! 

We had the doors and windows open for much of the afternoon and all went for a walk around 2:30. Nine of us climbed Christmas Hill from where the city spreads all around to the Sooke Hills in the west and to the ocean to the south and east. 

Watching the grandchildren run and skip (one brought along her skipping rope), clamber on rocks and climb trees made me smile. Edna Jaques said, 

Go out, go out I beg of you

and taste the beauty of the wild.

Behold the miracle of the earth

with all the wonder of a child.

The woods were polka-dotted still with leaves clinging to branches, like gold coins among brown twigs. Soon, however, the wind and rain will strip the branches bare and the stark architecture of nature will be revealed. 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, where we have a new host, Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf. Thank you to Maggie, who hosted #157 weeks of Mosaic Monday, and a thank you to Angie for taking up the challenge. 

Between the Seasons

"In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks"  John Muir

Indecisive September hovers between summer and autumn. Indecision about what to wear every day reflects the fluctuations in temperature. No socks and a light top one day, sweaters and closed in shoes the next.

"The air is crowded with birds, 

beautiful, tender, intelligent birds

for whom life is a song." George Henry Lewes

On my walk yesterday I stopped to watch this little bird gorging herself on Mountain Ash berries. She knows she needs to eat now to build up energy reserves for the weather to come.

Acorns litter the path under the sprawling branches of Garry Oaks. 

In my garden, blithe roses put out bud after bud, happy, I think for cooler temperatures and more moisture. Winchester Cathedral showing off just now, and I see that another white rose, Bolero, is getting ready to shine soon.

Our menus also reflect the waffling season. In the morning I think that a warming meal would be appropriate for dinner, but by late afternoon, a salad is more appealing. 

On a rainy day this week I roasted a chicken. There were plenty of leftovers for packed lunches, and this salad. Also in the fridge was a container of roasted butternut squash. I found some dried figs in the pantry to sliver and warm with the squash, then cooked a few bacon strips until crispy. A bed of lettuce topped with perfectly ripe and sweet Bartlett pear slices rounded out the plate for a most satisfying meal. A drizzle of mustard vinaigrette finished it all off. Yum!
  

Today is the end of the first full week of school. I am slowly getting back into familiar routines both there and at home. My students are wonderful, and eager to learn. This semester I have two classes of Spanish - beginning and third year (Grades 9 and 11). Teaching part time is enough for me. 

How about you? Do you find September is a time to reestablish routines that may have been relaxed during summer? 

A Walk on Christmas Hill

The Christmas Hill Nature Sanctuary is one of our favourite places to walk. On this sunny Sunday afternoon it was a perfect place for looking over the city. Wooden rail fences keep hikers away from delicate ecosystems. 

En route, we spied this woodpecker, on the ground, busily pecking away at something in the grass.

In the shady sections of the trail, fresh ferns look most un-autumn-ish, but are a result of recent rains and cooler temperatures.

The Garry Oak trees in the sanctuary have already lost most of their leaves. I don't find the trees particularly attractive, but they are highly valued and their ecosystem is threatened.

The hill is very rocky with the thinnest layer of soil that quickly dries out in summertime, resulting in dry, golden grasses. Soon, though, with the coming rains, things will green up again.

Grass and rocks against a blue sky. Autumn is full of loveliness.

Going through some picture files recently I saw this collage from two years ago. Many of the same flowers are blooming in my garden this year. 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life. 

An Evening Walk

Tod Inlet, taken just before dusk

After dinner is eaten and the dishes done, one of us suggests a walk. Sometimes it happens right away; other times we wait until 9 pm or so. 

I put on a loose hat, mostly so that my hair won't frizz too badly. We check the thermometer and decide if we need gloves, or not. The hour is of little concern, for no matter the time, we'll step out into darkness.

Island View Beach, early morning

Down the hill, turn left and then veer onto one of three route possibilities. We rarely meet anyone, occasionally someone is walking his dog and we exchange greetings with puffs of visible air. 

Through the woods we go, talking quietly or not at all. The trees loom dark and high against the path. Oddly, visibility is best on cloudy nights when the city lights reflect back down to earth. On clear nights we look up at the stars and are careful with our feet to prevent stumbling over roots and rocks.

November full moon

Now on quiet streets where houses nestle into Christmas Hill. From the woods on the hill pours a soft and liquid, "Whoo-hoo. Who-whoo." We stop, entranced. Again, "Whoo-hoo. Who-whoo." We walk on, lingering, aching to hear more. 

A few seconds later, "Whoo-hoo. Who-whooo." A quick swoop of wings in the dark and then another call from a different tree. "Whoo-hoo. Who-whoo." The last time.

Hands and ears begin to feel the cold. We walk home, open the door and are greeted by a rush of warmth and the flicker of the fire. 

Autumn's Incongruities

Dull skies. Cozy fire. It was hard to pull ourselves away and go for a walk this afternoon, but walk we did. We got to the point along our route where we either went up and over Christmas Hill or turned back towards home. Eyes met. We sighed and began trudging up the stone stairs. The view at the top rewarded us. At least a 180 degree view of water, mountains and clouds. 

This poor little hydrangea blossom doesn't realize it's October, not June. 

Likewise the new magnolia tree we planted in the spring. I thought we purchased a spring-blooming variety, but perhaps it's the fall one. We'll see what happens in April.

The strawberry plants are just plain crazy. Will the warm weather hang on enough to harvest these berries? We did pick a big bowl of raspberries yesterday. 

It really is autumn. Leaves whirl off the trees and scuttle along the street turning cartwheels. Diligent homeowners rake up huge piles for collection. I was tempted to dig in and throw them into the air. But I resisted.

I'll be linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Judith.