The Community Garden

After seeing various wildflowers that I recently posted, we dropped by the community garden at the museum to see more cultivated spring blooms. I don't mean community in the sense that random people plant gardens there but in the sense that the garden is planted and maintained by certain members of the community (the horticultural club, I think) and for members of the community to enjoy. It's not a grand place in scale, but it is a nice little spot.

The first photo that I took was of patch of grape hyacinths, aka muscari. I shot pointing downward and made a single flower my main focus. This ↓ is how the shot looked without any special editing applied.

I found daffodils other than the ubiquitous yellow kind. While the more common yellows are quite fine, it's nice to see other varieties by times.

And  . . . two little clumps of pretty tulips.

It’s raining this morning and for the whole day it seems. The plan is that Danica will drop by with coffee and for lunch to complete Mother’s Day visits. She got hit by a bug over the weekend, but she is fine now. 

Lights and Delight

Our mayor posted a photo of the bridge lit up in green for mental health week, so off we drove to the bridge, but where we got there, we were disappointed.

We were compensated, however, for had never seen the bridge lit in orange. Usually, if nothing special is being featured, the lights have been white. I don't know if orange is just a change of pace or whether there is a special meaning attached.

 

We've also never taken a photo of the bridge lights when it hasn't been dark out, or at least nearly so. This was around 8:15, and I just miscalculated about when it would get dark. However, I kinda sorta liked this look too, so my initial disappointment did fade a bit.

As we sat on the bench while waiting for the darkness to fall, I took a selfie. I once promised Sue that nothing would come between us, but townhall loomed to prove me wrong.

Darkness was slow to descend, and there was a chill in the air, so we left early.

Speaking of leaving, I leave you with this tulip pic before we part today. After a recent very cold night, our tulips opened regardless. I looked straight down the throat of this beauty and snapped my snap. After first showing the bridge lights, I now leave you with this delight.

The Other Wildflowers

I posted about the expanses of trillium flowers recently, but we began to notice other wildflowers as well, in little places here and there, like by this log in the background.

According to my iPhone, they are yellow trout lily flowers, aka Erythronium americanum. "The yellow trout lily is a perennial spring ephemeral with bright yellow, nodding flowers and mottled leaves, native to eastern North American woodlands." 

Before we left the woodland, we spotted another tiny flower, quite small and very low to the ground. "Hepatica (hepatica, liverleaf, or liverwort) is a genus of herbaceous perennials in the buttercup family, native to central and northern Europe, Asia and eastern North America." As we can see, they are pretty, little flowers, and I think my fav photo of the excursion. 

Mothers I Have Known and Loved

It is the day to acknowledge mothers. This is my mother with my daughter in 1974 (I think). Evidently, Shauna was telling a fish story of the one that got away.

Mom was born in 1915 and lived until 2003.

I usually print some sort of card for Sue on these occasions. While Shauna doesn't look happy, it is a reminder of Shauna being put to sleep outdoors in the carriage in all sorts of weather. Does anybody still do that? Those kinds of carriages no longer seem to be in use.

The years roll by and roles change. Shauna took Sue out for coffee and shopping yesterday, and the grandkids will drop by today.

A visit, coffee and a hanging basket from Shauna.

Meanwhile, here is Shauna with her own kids about 16 years ago, I am sure that her own kids will do something for her today.

Here's another photo of Shauna and Danica that popped up when I was looking for the one above.

Total Trillium Time

If you go down in the woods today

You're sure of a big surprise

We did not go down to the woods yesterday, but we did go up — up to the St James Woods on the northern fringes of town.

As for the surprise in the rhyme, well, we saw hundreds and hundreds of trilliums, our provincial flower. I was told that I would see some trillium flowers, but I've only previously seen them in small patches by the roadsides and not the plethora that greeted my eyes.

This (below) was one part of a large area, and there was more than one large area. It was rather wonderful. The picture doesn't do it justice, but one does what what can.

After gazing at the flowering fields, it was time for the old man to assume the position. While trilliums are not as low to the ground as the crocuses were a few weeks ago, they are still lowdown little things..

The surroundings are leafy and twiggy, but one does what one can. I hope you like the resulting photos. 

I really appreciated that glorious sighting of little white flower everywhere.

Very Recent Shots

The world turned green almost overnight although some trees still lag behind. Some people have their lawn chairs out, including this poor family that is forced to live by the river. I mean you've got to feel a bit sorry for them. 

Sue continues to try to get the seasonal photo as she envisages it, but there is a section of trees farther along the left bank that refuses to green up. I expect her to try a few more times and on brighter days. It is odd how the upriver photos ↑ always look brighter than the downriver ↓ shots.

I went out for coffee with the boys. Nick shot me. He caught me smiling. It drives Sue crazy when I can't smile for the camera, but this was spontaneous.

A guy sat down the table from us. You can see why I asked to take his picture. His name is Terry; I sent him a copy. Of note is the reality that I couldn't have done this with a real camera. I picked up the phone and twiddled one dial. The effect was right in the phone, not later when I edited. I did crop in post and removed the glare from his glasses, but those were just the touchups to the basic photo that came form the phone.

Meanwhile, we have tulip colour. These coral-coloured tulips are among those that Jonathan planted for us last fall. They are the early and low variety. I'd rather the later and taller tulips, but there is something to be said for early colour too. I think there are six plants scattered about our little front garden.

Poor plants though. We had a frost advisory last night. Whether it eventuated or not, it would have been a close call. I am sure the hardy daffs would have survived, but I don't know if the tulips would have made it. I don’t see as much colour when I look down there early this morning, but perhaps the tulips just gathered themselves overnight. 

An Explosion of Coke (not that kind of coke)

I mentioned Coke, specifically the caffeine and sugar free variety recently, and that got me reminiscing.

My grandkids don't like pop. Factually, I am the only one in my family to like the stuff. Good for all of them, and bad for me. Taste is such a variable thing. I don't know why I like what I do, nor why others don't like what I like, and vice versa, of course.

I've always liked it. My first remembered tasting is that, when I was about 5 years old, someone jettisoned a bottle of cream soda on our lawn. It was capped and unused. I brought it into mother who acted as my protective taste-tester. She affirmed the drink and let me drink the rest. What a treat!

When I was a little older, Mom and I would sometimes go for a walk on a Sunday evening when dad was at church. It seems to me that we would often pick up a bottle of Kik Cola (a local Montreal brand back then). I looked forward to that.

In high school, a friend and I would walk to the variety store almost every day after school and before the buses came to take us home. It was Coke in a bottle back then — the real thing as in the old commercials. I can still sing that commercial. (I searched for it, but I cannot find the specific version that I recall.)

It's the real thing
In the back of your mind
What you're hoping to find
Etc

At some point in time around middle age, I switched to Diet Coke and now prefer that taste to Coke Classic. I would take several cans to school (work) every day. While I could have purchased cans at school, bringing them and keeping them in our department fridge was much less expensive. I didn't drink coffee in those days, not until near the end of my career, so Coke was my source of external stimulation.

I still drink Diet Coke, usually two cans in the afternoon and perhaps a Caff in the evening.

I do know it isn't exactly a healthy drink, but there is something about how it feels on my throat that is quite wonderful, and nothing else, not even other sorts of soft drinks, feels the same. The effect on my gullet is quite wonderful.

Oddly enough, a can exploded in my little fridge just after I sat down to type this. I had run out of the drink yesterday, and nothing was cold, so I put two cans in the freezer. I set my watch to beep me after 90 minutes. When it alerted me, I reached in and took one can out. One can, not two. Oh dear!

Hence the explosion this morning (yesterday morning as you read this). I can tell you Sue is not best pleased with me, for she is the one who knows best how to clean up the mess and how to do it right while I sit here and hang my head in shame and just keep on typing my blog.

That is some sort, but not a good sort, of unfortunate synchronism — to have that explosion at the very time that I am sitting down to write this. No deity could have timed it better