To spring! There have been one or two days this past week where the air has felt almost warm, with a softness or mildness that is more than just strong sunshine on a cold winter day. Yes, I think spring might be right around the corner! (Let’s ignore the forecast for tomorrow – Thursday, at the time of writing – where it’s likely we’ll delight in a high of 1C and somewhere between 5-10 cm of snow. Nothing more than a seasonal blip…)
Seasonal (luckily, the maple wasnt too strong a flavour)
In recent days we’ve enjoyed a cup of coffee or two on the deck, wavering between do we need a jacket – yes we do – and/or we don’t really need a jacket, do we – yes, you really do. Give it another week or three, and maybe then lose the jackets.
There has been a steady increase in birdsong, along with the almost ceaseless sound of snowmelt and surface water dripping from roof tops and gurgling into drains. The edges of gradually reappearing grassy areas are showing just a hint or two of green as the sunshine melts the last of the ice banks.
Seasonal blip, maple drip
Goodness, have we time to finish the Easter chocolate before finding time to start cutting the lawn? (Lawn? Steady on, OldPlaidCamper – I think small patch of grass is closer to the mark. Lawn…)
What grass?
I’ll leave it here for now, feeling optimistic about spring as we look past the next few days towards a weekend and beyond that promises something positively balmy. In the meantime, where’s that jacket? And, oh no, the snow shovels?
What snow?
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Yup, we’ve been spring breakers, if by that, we are taking a break from spring. Or spring is taking a break – or yet to arrive – in Quebec!
I do like to say how much I like snow, so at the risk of sounding as if he doth protest too much, we’ve had plenty of snow and I doth like it!
Snow? It hath snowed!
We – I – was delighted to see the latest large dump of snow stick around this time. For most of March it has snowed on and off and melted almost as fast as it fell. This made walking in the woods somewhat challenging, with a thin topping of slush over another thin layer of ice, with a large layer of mud lurking underneath. Sounds like a spring break drinks order at a dubious beach bar.
Is the beach this way?
My Dad would have liked that. He used to drink whiskey and coke (yuck), always ordering it in a tall glass, lots of ice. I thought of him enjoying that slushy delight a few times when my foot post holed into the muck. Raised a smile as I wondered if my feet would stay dry…
So no spring break style weather for us, but at least the last round of snow fell through a colder patch. It stuck around on top of ground that was more frozen, making travel into the woods much easier. Hard to say who was happiest, me or Scout? Probably Scout by a nose!
“Not sinking in? I like it!”
If you’re on a spring break, I hope it’s going great for you, whatever the weather. Maybe order yourself a glass of something good? Tall glass, lots of ice?
I got the tall glass part right…
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
“Yeah, yeah, yeah – whatever! Let’s go – I think I can hear the sea!”
Oops, I mean pause… Anyway, here’s Scout enjoying an almost warm and sunny spring morning earlier this week:
Sunny ways!
She, like us, was surprised late Saturday and through Sunday, when just as we were finished organizing our spring camping plans, the snow began to fall. And fall. And fall! Not too sure of the final amounts, but it was close to a record for a March snowfall in Quebec.
“Thought we were done with this?!”
It was certainly pretty, although it might have been the wettest and heaviest snow I’ve ever shovelled. More like weighty sorbet rather than light fluff. Temperatures have climbed since the weekend, so when we were enjoying the fruits of my snow shoveling labour by sitting on the cleared and sunny deck, the noisiest sounds were those of running and dripping water as the sorbet defrosted.
“Good job, old boy – but have you missed a bit?”
We took a walk out around the neighborhood once the storm passed, and it looked more like mid-January than it did back in mid-January:
Looks like January, but feels much warmer!
The snow was too claggy for us to walk on or through to access the woods, so we made do with looking at the edges. Pretty enough:
Access denied!
After all our exertions, we went home and enjoyed a well earned glass of something good!
Splendid – spring notes of pine resin, and not too bitter – yum!
The next week or two looks set to follow a similar pattern, with another small spring forward and hints of warmth, followed by a drop in temperatures and more snow. Is it jumper or jacket, or both?!
Both!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Hidden dangers? Sounds exciting – they could be anywhere and everywhere. Goodness, let’s explore this some more – follow me into PlaidCamper dangerous daydream territory…
Lose yourself here? No…
I’ve rarely found outdoor places to be overly intimidating, preferring instead to enjoy and be amazed by the beauty of the natural world, at least as I’ve experienced it. I’m sure if I was ever truly lost in the woods, or really caught outside in an immediately life threatening situation, then I’d certainly feel trepidation, and be afraid. I don’t leave home unprepared, but perhaps I’m getting complacent? I should snap out of it, because maybe it’s not so safe out there…
Mostly though, I’ve been outdoors in relative safety, often due to the company of more experienced fellow travellers, people who’ve taught me, as necessary, how to safely navigate the genuinely wild and remote places we’ve found ourselves. I count myself very fortunate to have been taught and trained by so many tremendous individuals.
A touch sinister? Follow me, it’ll be fine!
But what about those hidden or unexpected dangers? Do you ever wonder how you’d truly fare if you found yourself in a serious and dangerous wild situation? I think about this quite often, although I don’t go out of my way to seek danger. It’s just… suppose danger finds you? There’s always something lurking in the woods, isn’t there?
Recently, I’ve noticed that sometimes I’ll wander along and daydream, somewhat inattentive, almost complacent because I’m walking in woods mere minutes from our current home. I’ve yet to see bear or wolf tracks, so it’s all good – isn’t it?
Calm down, imagination – just shapes in the snow, they aren’t creatures…
A little while back, I fell behind Mrs. PC and Scout, mostly because I’d been dawdling, stopping to take a photograph or to look at a particular tree up close. Distracted, I stepped off the trail in a spot a bit more overgrown than the surrounding area. It was heavily blanketed by recent snow and my snowshoe went down and then down some more.
Deeper snow off the trail
Struggling to extract myself, something on the far side of the nearest tree positively exploded into motion, up, off and away. You should have seen me jump up, out and back on the trail, heart hammering. In this place I’ve never seen tracks for anything larger than a deer or another person, so I’ll assume it was a deer. I didn’t see what it was – too busy waiting for my overactive imagination (everything ran through my mind, so many possibilities – fortunately, nothing ran out of my undershorts) and my pulse to calm down…
Yup, deeper snow – anything over the edge?
Once I’d steadied myself and caught up with Mrs. PC and Scout, (my outdoor cool and nonchalance restored, acting like I’d never been, you know, even slightly startled) it was back to daydreaming, asking how I’d cope in a dangerous or unexpected situation?
Seems like being taught and actually learning might be two different things. As for what might really get me out there? Well, why worry about a bear when a deer combined with an overactive imagination might do for me. How would I really cope? Hmm…
Daydream territory
PlaidCamper caught daydreaming – I’ll say I had a wake up call! Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
It’s been an on and off sort of winter, and speaking for myself, I prefer a steady seasonally appropriate winter rather than a surprise thaw followed by a freeze followed by a thaw. Mud season can wait! Those lumpy with slush to ice sidewalks can wait! It’s a thaw point for me.
Winter
We did get into the local woods fairly recently, a decent snowfall providing some fun snowshoe conditions. We plodded and Scout scampered – I really do think snow is her favourite substance (or second favourite, just behind anything a dog can safely eat. Or unsafely. Fortunately, not too many incidents like that…)
“It’s not edible?! Now you tell me…”
We’ve heard a bit more bird song on our recent outings, and last week a woodpecker flew across the path ahead of us, landed high and crept up and down a tree trunk looking for good things. A red head! Was it a pileated woodpecker? I honestly don’t know, but it was lovely to see.
Quiet
The silver bark, green needles and a light dusting of early morning snow made what could have been a monochrome morning somewhat brighter than that. It was cold, but not so cold we couldn’t stop and sit to enjoy the quiet and a dusty muesli-style bar. Sort of healthy, but maybe go back to carrying chocolate? Just a (sensible) thought…
Who brought snacks?
No amazing glass trees, and no graceful gliding, but the silvers and greens and our steady snowshoe plodding after a fresh fall worked a different sort of wonder for us! The latest thaw is behind us, and I believe both more snow and appropriately steady seasonal temperatures are in the forecast…
Portrait of a plodder
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A short post this week, because if we take even a ten minute break from snow shovelling, it’s like we never even tried. Who was it complaining about no snow? Hmm…
“I remember this stuff – it’s snow, isn’t it?!”
Before the heavy snow arrived Tuesday overnight and all day Wednesday, we had enjoyed a couple of lighter snowfalls. Scout and I went out to play in the woods, happy to be there in less muddy and more wintry conditions.
Happy place
Mrs. PC has been getting over a cold (she’s much better now) and was happy to have the children out from under her feet for a while. Reminded me of when I was younger, and we were sent out to play. I think the instructions were along the lines of “Look after each other, be back before dark, and don’t get arrested!” Instructions from my mother, not Mrs. PC, although my woolly hat, her scratchy voice, and Scout’s eagerness to get out the door muffled clear directions… Anyway, off we went, looking for trouble.
Looking for trouble
We scrambled up a few snowy slopes, mostly because Scout wanted to visit the troll house, throw a few snowballs, and see if they were hibernating. Trouble is her middle name. I think she also wanted to see if I’d slip over climbing the inclines to the troll house. Trouble, I tell you. When we get home, I’m telling mum…
Stayed on my feet. Mostly.
We didn’t wake the trolls and I didn’t fall over – it was a controlled slide, Scout. We argued over what constitutes a fall, and we argued over if trolls really hibernate. On the second point, my clinching argument was asking Scout if she’d ever seen one in winter? Ha! Case closed.
The troll house – shh, they’re sleeping…
No trolls spotted, no bad falls, playing outside without supervision or needing the long arm of the law – not too bad. If we include this past weekend along with the many previous decades of playtime, speaking for all four brothers, and also for Scout, I think it’s so far so good on the not getting arrested front. That’s possibly, like a Tory setting targets you can’t miss (but still screwing everything up), a low bar? Scout made me say that. I’m telling mum.
Scrambled up, didn’t fall down
Right, on that “what story this week?” note, let’s leave it here, get back outside, and see if we can locate the shovels to restart digging operations!
I thought we’d finished, but the universe said no…
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Looking in the old town, there were some bright sparks:
Sparky
I think this old fella might know a thing or two about it:
“Just you listen to me, young fella…”
The chap above seemed to have some competition from the chap below (we’ve been keeping an eye on him, looks the sort that might attempt a chimney-based home invasion, and he’d be tough to spot…)
“Come back, young fella – I can tell you where to find ho-ho-holiday spirit – I’ll drop in later!”
Yikes, I found him a little scary and way over my head. I turned to these friendly looking types, but to be honest, whilst they seemed to be in good spirits, it was all rather wheezy and too smoky to get to what they were saying:
Holy smokes…
Before the big glitter of the big town got too much for me, we retreated into the woods:
“Follow us, OPC, you’ll be fine!” They seemed friendly enough…
I have to say, for me, it was a touch more manageable. A breezy day, so the wind whistled through the treetops, and if I couldn’t make out the words, well I was happy enough with the tenor and tone:
A chilled tune…
In fact, with a whisper of light snow, and the rattle and rustling of dry leaves, I’d say there were plenty of spirits in the woods. Holiday spirits? Who knows, but it was pretty and peaceful:
Small sounds, happy spirits
To finish, we absolutely found some holiday spirit:
Full(ers) of good things
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A brief piece this week, celebrating recent bright and brilliant weather days – we got out there when we could. Most of the past ten days has seemed somewhat overly (but necessarily) medical, from getting COVID and flu shots (never doing both at the same time again, didn’t work too well for me) to meeting every eye doctor in town (or so it seemed), as we went from one escalating appointment to the next, each doctor wanting a second opinion to the previous second opinion.
Bright and brilliant
Fortunately, once all the information had been gathered, the most senior opinion won the day (or week) and declared all was well, with no new news and to please come back in twelve months. Phew…
All is well
I hadn’t been experiencing any symptoms, but once one doctor took a look, they all wanted to peer in there, and really, can you blame them? If you’ve met me, and gazed into my beautiful grey-blue-green (that’s right, can’t even get agreement on this) eyes, you already understand the attraction. If you haven’t met me and you’ve yet to gaze into my eyes, well, join the line and you’ve so much to look forward to…
I think on that modest note it’s time to start wrapping this up. Most importantly, thank you doctors – always better to be safe than sorry…
Well chilled
We celebrated the eventual no news is good news with some still and some sparkling, and goodness, it was very well chilled. Minus 10 was the daytime high midweek – cool! To my lovely eyes and clear sighted thinking (huh?) these are the very best sort of winter days, with fresh snow, blue skies, and barely a hint of wind. It was wonderful to be outside this week, on the Plains of Abraham and in our local woods in near perfect conditions – some truly splendid sights for sore eyes!
Splendid
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A pinch of cold and dash of colour? Sounds like a recipe for early winter…
Ingredients? Nope! Essential, though? Maybe!
It has been the coldest week of the season so far, and, for the first time, we could feel the cold pinching, almost painful, on our earlyish morning walks. After a dull and rainy (in parts) weekend, it was good to get a light dusting of snow followed by cold and bright days. Yes, frigid enough to find “proper” gloves and toque, and to dig out the thermals. Not for now, those thermals, but soon, very soon…
A light dusting – preferable to rain…
We’ve been into the old town as well as the woods, and earlier this month had fun in and around Old Quebec, showing a friend some of the sights on their first visit. They thought it was so cold, whereas we thought it was almost warm – still above freezing and sunny!
Above freezing and sunny!
To keep warm, we focused on food and drink (stores, bars, and restaurants) in between roaming some of the more photogenic streets. In the end, I think we spent more time eating and drinking than we did walking – great fun!
Chez Temporel – recommended
I’ll keep it brief as Scout is nosing me toward the door – maybe she can already smell the snow we’ve been promised this week? Or maybe she thinks I could do with an extra walk or two after all the recent eating and drinking…
Cheers! And happy thanksgiving if that’s for you this week…
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Almost warmMore essentials?!“C’mon PC, follow me – you need a walk!”
Scout is an adventurous dog. She’s first out the door, first to pee in the driveway, first to pee in the woods (I’ll let you decide who’s second – in the woods, not the driveway…) and really, not too much fazes her. Sensibly enough, she’s irritated by flat earthers, election deniers, liars, folks of that ilk. Don’t get her started on Brexit, Braverman, Boris and all that nonsense – life’s too short, though not as short as Sunak’s time left in No. 10, teehee…
So, she’s adventurous enough. Got snow? Yes please! Mud? Why, let her at it. Sandy beaches? Let’s run and run! More snow? Yippee! Water? Screech of brakes sound. Er, no. Nope. Absolutely not.
Not even a shallow puddle? Let’s find the long way round. Incoming tides? Forget about it. Backyard sprinkler? Nooooo. All that time on the island, loving the beaches but never the water.
Opened up
Our local woods have a few damp places, and in some spots along the trail there are ankle to knee deep puddles after prolonged rain, but we (mostly Scout) always find the detours. Now the woods have opened up after most of the leafy undergrowth has died back, we’re discovering different trails, perfect for Scout to get into expert snow tracker mode.
“Yup, these are definitely tracks!”
Her new favourite story – thanks, Bob – is The Wendigo by Algernon Blackwood. She likes an old fashioned tale of terror, where things are so indescribably horrific the author/narrator almost cannot describe them. Now that’s scary. Almost as disturbing as me liking the name Algernon.
Hiding place
The Wendigo takes place more than a century ago, in the north woods in late fall as the first snow is coming. A hunting party falls prey to something. There are strange tracks, unpleasant odours, and frightening sounds. People disappear. What’s out there? Is it the Wendigo? Highly recommended, a hugely enjoyable read, but not one to think about too much in the late fall at dusk in the woods.
But Scout will think about this tale, wagging her tail, just as the sun starts to set and just as we’re as far from home as we like to get. She’ll start at the sound of a squirrel – or was it?! – scrabbling in the undergrowth. If she wore them, she’d have wet her pants when a grouse or similar did it’s exploding out of the shrubs thing, startling me (just a little, don’t believe her…)
Full stop
So when she stopped dead in her tracks and stared intently ahead, into the woods with the trail going up a steep incline and out of sight, was I bothered? In Wendigo country? As darkness falls? No, no, not this close to home. Right?
We stood still, and the woods stood still with us. The squirrel was long gone, and there wasn’t even a breath of wind to rustle the last of the leaves. All was quiet. No, wait, what was that thumping sound, faint but quite insistent? Wendigo footsteps on a steady and stealthy approach?
Incline
Nope, just my heart, finding a more normal beat after the double whammy of the steep slope and that damned grouse thing…
We got going again, deciding not to tell any more woods based ghostly tales until we got home. Ignoring the chill and totally not faking how brave we were, on we went, up over the rise and then picking our way down the slope, taking care not to slip on the combination of partially frozen leaves and icy snow. Scout did stop to point out the stone house where the troll lives, but they weren’t home and we weren’t hanging around.
The troll house
Then we came to the worst part, so horrific it’s almost indescribable – Scout doesn’t want me to go there, but I will. This new terror? An even bigger squirrel? Two grouse? Grouses? Grice?! (A terrifying new plural?) No, bad as the grouses can be, this was much, much worse. It was a raging torrent! Treacherous looking icy banks and deathly cold black water gushing downstream.
“Yeah, not too sure we can cross this – it’s pretty fierce!”
Did Scout want to cross it? Nope. We debated retracing our steps, but knowing the horrors we’d already almost encountered, how could we go back? The troll might be home. The squirrel might be hungry. I can’t (and possibly shouldn’t) even write about the grouses. Instead, Scout scouted up and down stream, looking for a place to cross, knowing she’d have to face her worse fears and dip a toe in the water.
And then, just as I wasn’t ready, she stepped back then leapt forward to clear the raging torrent in one mighty bound! I was so happy she made it across, and even happier that the short leash she was on wasn’t any shorter as I narrowly avoided falling in. Now that would have been horrific – I can’t even begin to imagine the grousing had that happened. Disaster averted, I took a short step (Scout here – he meant to write “giant leap”) and followed Scout over.
Yes, quite the leap…
Somehow we made it home. Somehow, I managed to open a beer and drink it. Somehow, I’ve managed to recount this tale of terror. And somehow you’re still here reading…
Somehow managed to open and drink this one (a very good stout!)
So there you have it, a tale that isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s one that (no doubt about it or you can call me Algernon) will be whispered and retold around many a winter campfire in years to come.
To be fair, the scariest stuff here this week is in the first paragraph. We do love scary woodsy tales but that isn’t how we find our local forest – not even the streams faze us, do they Scout?!
“Algernon? Did you hear that?!”
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
OldPlaidCamper 