Yeah, it’s definitely out there, it just took us a little while to find! Fortunately, with Scout and her reliable ability and enthusiasm to find most things, we tracked down the good stuff:
“Looking for winter? Follow me…”
After a mild period into the new year, temperatures have dropped, some snow has fallen – and there is a promise of more snow in the forecast – so winter might have arrived!
It might be getting wintry outside?
We checked on the snow conditions for xc skiing earlier in the week, aiming for a gentle start on the Plains of Abraham. We think it is almost good to go, likely Thursday (yesterday) or Friday (today – hooray!)
As we were right outside, we popped into the MNBAQ gallery to take another look at the Inuit exhibits on the top floor. Talk about finding winter! There are numerous wonderful creations on display, carved from basalt, serpentinite, bone, antlers and other materials. Each piece offers insight into a unique culture and community full of myths and stories situated in an amazing and challenging landscape. I particularly love the sculptures where animal/human identities are in transformation from one to another. So fluid, with such skill in their creation.
Bear shaman (by David Ruben Piqtoukun)
All the searching for winter can make a person hungry (and thirsty) so we simply had to have a late lunch at Le Billig, a Breton influenced crêperie located a steep and slippery walk down from the plains on Rue St. Jean. I wish I liked cider as much as I like beer or pancakes, because they offer an amazing range of Québécois ciders. Mrs. PC did her best, and I’m always happy with the Boréale IPA du Nord-Est!
Yum
And after that light(!) lunch, it was off to catch the fast bus home and get into the woods once more with Scout. If winter sticks around, we could get used to this!
Trolls live here – but we don’t feed ‘em!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful winter weekend!
Enjoy the season, and happy holidays to you should you choose to celebrate. Or, simply enjoy the weekend and week ahead if that’s more your thing, no extra festivities required…
We’ve enjoyed a few more sprinklings of snow and the temperature has stayed reliably low, so there’s still a white carpet out in the woods. With luck, and if forecasts are accurate, we should have received a sizeable amount more by the time you’re reading this. Please, please, please…
At the start of the week Scout and I had the local woods pretty much to ourselves. Other than the chattering squirrels still at work, and the occasional woodpecker and numerous small brown birds I’m unable to identify, it was mostly quiet. Tracks told us of hares and rabbits, and dogs and walkers out earlier than us, but we didn’t see another person each morning. (Mrs PC remained indoors at the start of the week, under the weather and recovering from flu shots, etc. On the mend now and she’ll soon be back keeping an eye on the children…)
The air was still, with fallen snow balanced precariously on even the most delicate of branches. As morning progressed and a bright sun rose, what heat there was caused snow to tumble, miniature crystal cascades shimmering down. A tiny bird flew across the trail in front of us and into the trees on our left, almost faster than my eye could catch it. Threading through the lattice of tiny branches, wing beats dislodging snow, white puffs betraying the flight path – that was some sight!
With her half curved tail a happy question mark, Scout is most definitely a snow dog, leaping ahead or nosing into snow banks or trying to catch a snowball. I can barely keep up. If there’s a downward slope, she’ll pull hard, trying to get ahead, reach the bottom – and see if I’ll fall? Sometimes I surrender on the steeper ones, putting one foot forward and then sliding down gracefully (you weren’t there, it was graceful) as if riding an escalator, disappointing Scout as I remain upright.
“There’s a good steep slope just over the rise that’ll get him, hehehe!”
Goodness, a couple of weeks into the new winter season and Scout is yet to see me tumble. Will my luck hold? Scout isn’t a gambler, more of a gamboller, but if she could place a bet, it would be on me being flat on my face, deposited into a snow bank at some point. There is a lot of winter to come, and many more walks in the winter woods, so she’s probably right…
“I’m always right!”
The little things in an outdoor season of wonder keeping us mostly balanced – thank you, winter! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A hint of proper winter! I know my delight in enjoying a “real” winter isn’t shared by all, but goodness, doesn’t a sprinkle of magic fairy dust, I mean snow, really help lift the mood?!
At last!
It was a race as to who could get out of the door and into the woods the quickest. Scout won, because shoe laces, but I was a close second and off we frolicked. Mrs. PC? Yes, she can do shoe laces as well, and she was with us but not racing. She plays it cool at first snowfall, letting the children make youthful fools of themselves and, quite rightly, feigning not to know us. Why Scout has to kick up snow into the air cackling madly I’ll never know – no wonder Mrs. PC hangs back just a little…
“Why have we stopped? Oh, shoelaces…”
The first decent round of snow wasn’t all that much if I’m honest. Enough to be noteworthy and not disappoint or disappear overnight. On notes, I always think the last remaining leaves look a little like musical notation, a gentle introduction or prelude to the full song and mighty majesty we’re about to enjoy. (This might tell you I was never a success musically in school or all the years after. Years of instruction and to this day I cannot read a note – how does that happen?)
Notes and leaves
What was I doing? There were recorders – instruments of musical torture in the wrong hands, and mine were so very wrong – and drums (“Adam, put the sticks down, you can’t play those unless you can tell me what these notes are?” No drums then…) and all sorts of sonic temptations, but beyond hammering at a glockenspiel I never really achieved much. Sometimes, I wasn’t even allowed a glockenspiel – just a single chime bar was the best I could expect. And even then I’d hit it at the wrong time, much to the music teacher’s delight I’m sure. Oh well. It taught me to be an appreciative audience instead. After all, if we’re all in the band, who buys the tickets?
“Yeah, I’ve heard him sing. Trust me, he’s not musical…”
On winter and music and buying a ticket, we were lucky enough to enjoy Les Violons du Roy perform all of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons a few weeks ago. My wonder and delight with Jonathon Cohen (conductor and harpsichord) continues – his ability to convey enthusiasm and joy and encouragement in his fellow musicians is something to behold. I’ve never seen or heard anything like it! I know the Four Seasons is probably overly familiar, but to hear it played as it was originally composed was very special. As special as the first winter snow…
First snow
Let’s conclude with that attempt at tying together a few loose strings and false notes – thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Scout here. OldPlaidCamper is around, but you know how he can be when elections are won by old xenophobes, criminal misogynist wannabe “strong” men and- well, I could go on but then I’d sound like him, and we all know I’m more chipper and less likely to rant than him. So, while he’s off sulking, this week it’s up to me to provide a post. This is about something, or rather, a something that has been lurking and maybe even tracking us in the woods.
Hiding places
OPC can get twitchy – or squirrelly but not as cute (don’t tell him I said that) – when there’s a rustling in the undergrowth. I’ve explained over and over that there really isn’t anything much larger than a deer in our little neck of the woods, but will he listen? Yes, yes, there’s the troll house, but we’ve never seen the trolls, have we?
The troll house (no trolls though)
Anyway, there we were out in the woods last week, and, yup, there was definitely something different in the vicinity. We paused to listen. A sort of low rustling and then nothing. On we went. There it was again! It stopped just after we did. Now, I’m not the nervous sort, not like a certain almost outdoorsman we all know, but I will admit to being a little spooked. Not spooked or annoyed like I get with ravens and crows, and we all know I’m so calm I’ll sleep through a bear encounter, but this time I was ruffled. We moved on. And there it was again! Hmm.
“Wait! Did you hear that? A scurrying behind us?”
As a child, oops, I mean pup, and just like OPC, I was always drawn to maps in books that had places marked with “Here be dragons” and this was beginning to play on my mind. Could it be… no! So, perhaps it was a troll? Except whatever it was sounded too fleet of foot – not lumbering, far more nimble than that. You’ll never guess what OldPlaidCamper said? “I say, Scout, old thing, I do believe we’re jolly well being stalked by a woodland dragon! How beastly. Shall we hide?” (When he’s nervous, he sounds like a prissy child actor in a Sunday teatime BBC adaptation of one of the Narnia books. You won’t tell him I said that will you?)
Eye rolling moment
Oh, c’mon, OPC. There is no such thing outside of your, oops, I mean my, story books! (I’m beginning to struggle with the narrative voice here. It’s not easy writing this. Never mind all thumbs on a keyboard, or a monkey (as if) with a typewriter – I’m all paws. Nope, not easy…)
Where was I? Oh yes. OPC loves dragons, but, unlike trolls, they only exist in stories. I’ve never seen one – have you? OPC says dragons are more real than a Brexit unicorn frolicking in sunlit uplands, but I usually stop listening when he gets started on that. You know, unicorns.
Here be dragons? Don’t be daft, OPC
This post isn’t going anywhere is it? I thought I’d write something more interesting than his usual man goes for walk with dog then drinks beer. I was aiming to be a bit more elevated. More dog goes for a walk with man then eats kibble, and ending with a soft focus photograph of a bowl of kibble and a caption saying “yum!”
I’ll humour him. “Yes, OPC, something has been lurking here!”
Oh well. I’m tired, and I need to go find OPC, see if he needs a walk and feeding, so let’s leave it here this week. He often finishes with something like that, doesn’t he? “Let’s leave it here this week!” Not me. I’m going to say let’s paws it here this week. Elevated. Oh! I almost forgot, and I’d hate to leave you in suspense – was it a dragon? Yes! Yes it was! A baby dragon:
Yes, that’s right, a baby dragon. (I know, I know, but don’t spoil it for OPC – he’s fragile after recent events…)
A baby dragon?! He insisted on calling it that, bless him. To me it looks a lot like a salamander, but try telling OPC. He is adamant it is a baby dragon. And now, when we go to the woods, he’s all “here be dragons!” each time we turn a corner. I’ve decided it’s best to let him believe it, since it seems to cheer him up, and don’t some of us need that at the moment?
Thanks for reading, and we hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Already?! Goodness, the year seems to be racing by…
Thanksgiving this coming Monday, and amongst all the wider madness in the world we’re aware we’ve so much to be thankful for.
Already?!
As I’ve mentioned before, it’s a happy coincidence for us that thanksgiving weekend more or less marks the anniversary of when we moved to Canada, a decision we’ve never once regretted.
Each passing year we love our home more and more. So if you choose to celebrate the coming holiday, happy thanksgiving. If you don’t, here are a few more fall related images from recent weeks!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
…not to pray, at least not in the conventional sense, but perhaps an unspoken word or two of thanks was offered up, a recognition of a special space and place.
Down to the river
We were very happy to be down by the Etchemin River once again. We were also very happy to enjoy mild temperatures, if not quite as warm as our previous visit. Signs of early fall were all around, from the sharp snap in the air first thing, to the dry leaves shaken loose by sudden brisk breezes and seesaw floating to the ground.
Almost heavenly…
A highlight of the week was the daily flyby of several skeins of geese at dawn and dusk, their honking and wing beats tracing the path of the river. Each time they flew over, sometimes up high, other times almost touching the treetops, I tried and failed to get a clear and closeup photograph. Splendid sights and sounds, and a reminder the current season is moving on and warm weather camping might be almost over for another year.
Not so close!
We have one more longish camping trip to come. By the time this is posted we’ll be somewhere in the Gaspésie, having traced our own journey several hundreds of kilometres east along the southern shore of the mighty St. Lawrence river. We’ll be huddled over a fire beneath the low mountains and amongst the tall pines, hoping the days are warm even if the nights are cool. More on that another time.
I’ll wind up for this week with another religion adjacent observation – we’ve developed quite the fondness for a smoked blue cheese produced at the Saint-Benoit-du-Lac monastery over the river and to the southwest of Quebec City. It’ll be in amongst our picnic items for the coming week. Try it if you can find it – simply delicious! Inspired by a higher power? I don’t know, but the fromage bleu fumé reveals/provokes almost divine levels of devotion…
“No smoked blue for me? Ok, whatever, not sulking…”
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Maybe if you spend too long in the woods with nothing but your thoughts, strange things start to occur?
You’re sitting in your chair – finally, you’ve found just the right camping chair, both sturdy and supportive and with a little pocket for your favourite woodsy beverage – and you start to nod off. A day/days of strenuous inactivity can cause pleasant drowsiness, so when you come to with a slight start, you ask, what was that?
Was it the porcupine returning to the scene of his earlier encounter with Mrs. PC and Scout? (A non-spiky encounter – good news on all sides!) Nope, doesn’t seem so.
On low alert
Maybe the crows have returned, believing they hadn’t done enough previously in their attempts to disturb the peace? Nope, no crows.
Must have been an industrious woodpecker, drilling for something tasty up in the higher reaches? Nope, nothing like that.
Berry good days
So, why am I suddenly on alert? Haven’t seen or heard a raccoon, the chattering squirrels aren’t about, but something has intruded, gotten into my empty head. Good thing Scout would warn us if an unwelcome whatever was approaching. No, scratch that. This is the same Scout that didn’t even blink last time a bear wandered through our backyard. A crow, deer or squirrel, then yeah, she’ll let us know. Scout’s many wonderful things, but being a reliable guard, no, not so much.
Rustling, the ok kind
There it is, I can hear it now, a distinct rustling in the undergrowth behind me. Did anyone else hear it? No?! I’ll settle down then, must be an overactive imagination. Take another sip of the rather wonderful bottle conditioned saison from the Bercée microbrasserie we visited earlier. Mmm, excellent. Grains de folie!
May cause odd musings
There! I knew I wasn’t losing it! Look what’s come out of the woods to greet us. No, not him, he’s not real. The second one.
“Are you calling me an unwelcome whatever? Not real?! Sure, have another sip, enjoy it, and maybe I’ll be along later to have a word?”“What ya drinkin’? Looks good! Don’t mind me, don’t be startled, I’m just out on patrol! Watch out for that beardy little fella – come to think of it, he looks a bit like you, doesn’t he?”
Huh? What’s going on? Maybe I’ll keep the other bottle for when we get home, lock the doors, and drink it inside? I love it up in the Saguenay – wonderful lakes and woods, and a great place to sit and let your thoughts drift – but maybe don’t drift too far? You might end up a touch Kenogamachiche here on Lac Kénogami…
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
“Gotta go – see if I can track down that other strange little beardy fella – see ya next time!”
Yup, according to a note that popped up last week, I’ve written (and you have endured) 500 posts here on OldPlaidCamper. Nope, got that wrong, so last week. You’ve now endured 501 posts (assuming you’re still here for this one?)
“You lot are lucky – imagine having to listen to each draft…”
Looks like I’ve gotten away with writing more or less the same thing 500 times. Man goes for walk with dog, then has a beer. Sometimes rants at the unpleasant oddity of so many right wing politicians and populist xenophobes. Asks himself has the world gone quite mad? Has another beer, decides to go camping. And repeat…
Has the world gone quite mad? Dunno – let’s go camping!
Thank you for reading and commenting – I enjoy the little online corner we share through our blogs. Friendly people with some degree of coinciding interests and concerns, never dull, always respectful and good natured, and so much fun – that’s you, not me.
Good nature
I’ll see if I can keep going for another 500? Hmm, that’s a lot of new beers to try and places to camp, but lets’s give it a go.
Beer 501, beer 502…
We’re away this week, returning to the Saguenay area, our first visit since the black fly incident back in June. There’s been a great deal of rain the past day or two, so here’s hoping those pesky black flies are poor swimmers and those that can swim are not too hungry.
To the Saguenay
I’ll catch up on all matters WordPress when we return. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Drifting and paddling, splishing and splashing. Being by the water on warm summer days – is that about as good as it gets?! We could ask these guys:
Is it this way?Maybe this way?Both ways work – we’re in the right place!Agreed!Cheers!Lake Témiscaming, July 2024The right place?Yes!
By the time this is posted we’ll be off camping, down by a different body of water in the Chaudière-Appalaches. I’ll catch up on all things WordPress next week. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
OldPlaidCamper 