"Out of the bosom of the Air,

      Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

      Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

            Silent, and soft, and slow

            Descends the snow."

Snow Flakes

              Longfellow

The predicted storm having missed us I went out to see

what gifts winter had bequeathed me today. It turned

out to be a day for close study rather than sweeping vistas.

"Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees

stand sleeping in the cold. "

                             Winter Trees

                                      William Carlos Williams

Diary of a Mad Blogger

Why hello there I thought we should finally meet

and give you a chance to see me in action.

This is my Ernest Hemingway look.

Last Wednesday I arrived at work early, without

even my normal moderate level of enthusiasm. As

I mentioned in a previous post I had not been able

to blog recently and since I was very early I decided

to check in on a few of my favorite blogs.

First stop was

Birds Eyes and Butterflies to see Laura's

beautiful bird photographs. She had

a wonderfully detailed photo of a Cardinal

and a swimming Gull whose lovely colours

were complemented by the brown tones in the

blue water.

(All the blogs mentioned in this post can

be found in the Favorite Blogs section of

my website)

Next stop Cate at Beyond the Fields We Know

She had a lovely shot of a Chrysler Imperial rose

a rose I grow here ( when all goes well ) in memory

of my father who worked at Chrysler and tended roses

in Windsor where I grew up.

She also had a beautiful shot of a Bison in the snow.

Again there was a connection there, while in archaeology,

many years ago now, I helped the faunal analyst

( still one of my best friends ) cut up 8 Bison which

died of natural causes or accidents at Elk Island Park.

The bones were then used in comparative collections

for archaeologists in the field. This certainly gave me a

life long appreciation for the strength and beauty of

these iconic creatures

A trip to Kathie's Birds to see another blogging buddy.

She had posted a scary tale about almost slipping through

a park fence into a river. She also posted lovely shots

of Robins flying among the tops of trees against a blue sky.

If you visit her site make sure you follow the link to her poetry

site as well.

Yes I lick my nose when I am concentrating
Spelling is a real problem for me.

From Kathie's I went to Nature's Splendor where Julie

had posted lovely photos of the birds at her feeder

there were lots of great photos to choose from

the shot of the Red Bellied Woodpecker was just

wonderful I really loved the detail.

Then on to Red and Peanut where Kelly had posted a

lovely gauche painting of a Great Horned Owl along

with interesting information and views about the

various stages of the process and a colouring book

page that people can paint. Kelly always provides

great information to go with her lovely drawings or

photos. I may have to open my drawer of art supplies

and take a stab at something. But I may need a tiny smock,

paint on the sweater Rigmor knitted me would not be cool.

Also check out the photos of the Blue-Winged Teal

in the previous post on her blog it doesn't get any better

than that.

 The last blog I visited was Bill's Wildramblings where I was

rewarded with a lovely post about the book Dandelion Wine

by a favorite author of mine Ray Bradbury. As you can see

above I am lost in thought. Bill's thought provoking posts about

nature the environment and the importance of memory do that to me.

But it was time to go to work and I could not visit the blogs

of Sandy, Gary and Boomer. Roy, Lené, Nina, Hilke, Bev, Wanda and

the many others who have shared their thoughts and experiences with us.

But I did notice one thing, my mood which had been sour for

days was really improved by visiting all the people that are

looking at, remarking on and loving the world and the critters

both little and big we share it with.

And now back to work.

" The final words waited to be written. But he

went instead to the window and pushed the screen

frame out.  He unscrewed the top of the jar and tilted

the fireflies in a pale shower of sparks down the windless

night. They found their wings and flew away."

Dandelion Wine

Ray Bradbury

These pictures are from Tuesday we had a bit

of snow so I took my camera to work and walked

around the Research Park to see what I could see.

My camera has been acting up recently it is a  

Canon Rebel T2i and I normally use a zoom lens

(ef-s 55-250 mm) but it seems to have a problem

with the auto focus if I point it at the sky or a distant

landscape with nothing in the foreground it whirs

in and out but never allows me to take a picture,

then if I point it down it will take a picture. You will

be relieved to know I do not intend to blog my photos

of my feet. Maybe a sensor problem?

The park was nice a very blue sky and

plants bejeweled with ice crystals.

This magpie was hiding from his friends

in the bushes and strangely quiet.

I guess it did not want to share.

I heard chickadees everywhere but could not get a

photo until I was going home. I did not see any

jackrabbits despite looking, very rare for the park.

Not much to see, nothing very dramatic going on

but a lovely day for a walk.

"Where stars past the spruce copse mingle with fireflies
Or the dayscape flings a thousand tones of light back at the
     sun—
Be any one of the colours of an Earth lover;
Walk with me and sometimes cover your shadow with mine. "

Live With Me On Earth Under the Invisible Daylight Moon

Milton Acorn

Having a few connection problems

so I am behind in my blogging.

" Nothing is alive in this tunnel

of winds at the end of winter

except the last raging of winter.

the cats peering smugly from the homes

of strangers, and the great stunned sky

slowly settling like a dark cloud

lined only with smaller dark clouds."

              I Sing the Body Electric

                   Philip Levine

As someone who once worked in archaeology and who reads and aspires

to write poetry I loved the quote from Howard Nelson below. Is the

Internet with all its modes of communication the modern equivalent of the

cave paintings of Lascaux? And attempt to say, see, I saw this, I  thought

this, I said this, I shared this?

" A shaggy man is sitting alone late at night scratching at a sheet of paper,

and like the marks carved twenty thousand years ago on an antler

in a cave which say "someone is alive here"

these scratches are secret messages told to everyone.

" The dark threw its patches down upon me also....""

                                     Reading " Crossing Brooklyn Ferry " on a

                                     Summer Morning

                                          Howard Nelson