Boundary Bay


All it takes is the oomph to chuck the bike on the back of the car, plus half an hour of strategic driving. 

Overcast and a bit blustery so pretty empty of humans. Birds on the other hand…Northern Harrier, a couple of Hawks, maybe Red Tailed, so hard to tell by my inexpert eyes. Eagles, at least six of them. These two watching me impassively from the power lines near the farms. 

It’s close to the big old city yet feels miles away. 

Poor Neglected Blog…

   
   

 

It is still a place to show the love for this place though, and for the people (and creatures- hi Sawyer) who live here. Heaven knows there is a bit of knitting. Unfortunately little documentation…

To avoid the effect of a gray winter season, there has been much activity. Time to settle a bit methinks. 

Return of the Wild White Geese

It was a total fluke. A bit of clearing after days of rain made the bird sanctuary a good idea. Walking, I  could hear the commotion of many, many bird voices growing louder and louder. Coming round the outermost boundary of the sanctuary, where Westham Island opens up into water and sky I got to see wave after wave of v- formations, the snow geese coming to land. Whenever I thought “ok, that’s all” another group would arrive from another direction. Some groups were small, just a few birds. Some groups must have been over one or two hundred, gliding along together. I don’t know what triggered the whole mass of birds to arise  as one, shouting loudly but they did this too, at least twice or three times. The Cooper’s hawk flying nonchalantly about, looking for small creatures didn’t seem to be the cause but who knows. To see them arrive, so many hundreds arriving at the same time and place- I couldn’t have planned it. Such luck.

  That line of white is all my camera could see. In person- rather wonderful.
Signs of autumn on the lower mainland. 

  It is a beautiful place this.
  On the way home it seemed fitting to buy some squashes!

Mystery Solved

There aren’t too many places in the immediate neighbourhood that we didn’t walk, Grant and I. The forty hectare eco reserve not very far from our home is one of them. I discovered this on one of this winter’s rambles. Its not far from the park where families picnic and seniors walk their little dogs along the river, but just far enough that fewer people go. There’s a walk around the perimeter, a couple of little bridges and lots of evidence of bird life.

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Its an odd feeling, to find someplace new after eighteen years of walking here. There is a sense of discovery, a mild stirring of interest.

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There is a swing bridge near where the trail branches off. It spans the oft referenced Fraser River, silty at this time of year. Its muddy and green most of the time here as a matter of fact.

Late at night, when the city is a bit quieter, I sometimes can hear a consistent industrial roar. Its not always there, and I wondered what it was. The sound of the docks on the river is more obvious, and the crashes and clangs of the work travel across water clearly. As it turns out, the roar is the incinerator for the regional district. It sits at the far entrance to the eco reserve, in the trees between the industrial area and the river. Its well off the main roads through the city and can’t be seen by commuters. In the daytime, the noise is just part of the ongoing background hum, and can’t be defined.

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There are still farms in the Fraser River delta, and these came from a roadside stand spotted on the way home.

No fibre arts worth noting these past few weeks. The impulse is on a bit of a hiatus. I expect it will return.