Justfolk's photos

Passing by a local ball field this morning, I saw this rather classy chair just behind the bleachers.

I was out in the light rain this morning looking for a bird I did not find. I found myself on a path I last walked on over fifty years ago. Back then, I was walking the length of a river that had been put underground twenty years previous to then. Its headwaters were in the then-City-Dump. Even in the early 'seventies, the Dump had been closed and covered for decades. But the brook still stank so it was still covered. In the late 'seventies, the City put through a major sewer line parallel to the underground river, making a kind of path over the sewer. And then twenty years later, the City decided to release the river itself. Since then the path, walking above the big sewer line, follows the brook which still adds a red tinge to the rocks it flows over (from the iron leaching out of the Old Dump). But it doesn't stink anymore. It's a pleasant spot for trees and bushes and birds and perhaps other animals to live productive lives. And I'd been alerted to a Lincoln's sparrow down there. I didn't find the sparrow, but I like the path. Even here -- where the brook disappears underground again to get past a couple of gigantic mansions finally to reappear a couple of hundred metres on.

Our neighbourhood got at least four degrees warmer today than the official weather station ten or fifteen km north of us. We got fourteen degrees in our front yard. (It was even warmer on the sunny back deck. :) ) In any case, our little snowdrops opened up. And they look great.

Most of the pond is still covered with ice. But the water is open down here at the outflow, and it shows signs of having been much higher, when a chair got hung up in the grating.

The nearest pond to our house is still covered in ice right across, but the pussy willows are all blooming. It's some kind of paradox that while you walk around the pond, watching your step in the snow and on the ice, these things are thinking of spring, and doing something about it. I can't think of any other area in this town where the Pussywillows are so forthright and early. This pond is the King of Pussywillowdom.

It was a lovely windless sunny day, so we went beatin' the paths in the neighbourhood. This is the old railway track which runs along a river that flows down into the harbour.

We were just stepping out the front door to go somewhere when my wife pointed out a tiny patch of first bloomers, snow drops in a sunny corner of our front lawn. It may be two months before these blooms finish up -- I expect lots more frost and snow before spring really comes. But in the meantime we can admire these first blooms.

Our friends, and we, are still pretty risk-averse about crowds. But, a couple of nights ago, six of us went out to a new local restaurant and ate a lovely halal meal amongst people breaking their Ramadan fast. There was no cause for a scowlery.

There was some salt on top of the stove and the morning sun was slaking in over it. So I thought I'd take a picture. I didn't notice the red thread until I looked closely at the picture.

This top section of Feaver's Lane in downtown St. John's, down from Queen's Road to Bond Street, is really just a footpath nowadays. The lower section, which runs between Bond Street and Gower Street, is somewhat wider. It's one of the public rights-of-way that were preserved after the Great Fire of 1892 but which, as spaces maybe wide enough for moving vehicles, were superseded by other nearby streets. But it's still an official roadway that the City lights. But it looks like the livyers must shovel the snow themselves.

I went this morning to have some blood tests at the hospital nearest our house. I budgeted my time for twenty minutes at the feeder behind the hospital beforehand. I was lucky and, within my time window, saw not only the Pine warbler I was hoping for (he'd been there all winter), but a Downy woodpecker too.

I've geared up in hopes of taking a picture of the eclipse in three weeks. And I've been trying to get used to taking pictures of the sun. From our back deck this afternoon, the sun is behind trees: those dark areas on the sun's disk are not sunspots; they are out of focus branches and cloud. On April 8th, I intend to be not only where the eclipse will be total, but out from under any nearby trees. I can only hope there'll be no clouds.

I worked for decades in the same building as B and we knew each other well. I never met his daughter R until the morning a month ago when I ran into them behind a local hospital. They, like me, were hoping to see the winter-rare Pine warbler we knew was there. None of us did see it that morning. Fuji 200 film in Rollei Prego 125.

Katie is a reporter/videographer. A month or so ago she wanted my opinion on something. A deal was struck: I did a short interview and she let me take her picture afterwards. Thus this. It was a cold morning but my little Rollei Prego 125 did the job. Fuji 200 colour film.

John's a former neighbour whose children still live much of the time next-door to us. He often comes by our place to help shovelling snow. That is what he was doing this day a couple of weeks ago. I took his picture with snow falling all around us with my Rollei Prego 125, on Fuji 200 film. I scanned the negative a little hastily but I like the effect.

The moon, two and a half days old, sinking down into the horizon, with Jupiter presiding above. The shutter speed was slow enough that I got a fairly good picture of the unlit part of the moon. The old fellas, the ones in my grandfather's generation, used to call that the new moon with the old one in its arms.

Or so I assume -- that this is the same orange-crowned warbler I've been seeing fleetingly, and at long intervals between sightings, but from time to time since last fall. We got 80 cm of snow a few days ago. I was glad then to see him show up today for his three-minute cameo appearance.

After supper as I sat down to read in my favourite chair, after much shovelling yesterday and today, I looked out the front window. This is what I saw.