A very short list of a few of the things in my neighbourhood I’m going to miss…

…now that moving day is nearly here and we will be heading to a new community all the way across the city.

The grocery store just up the street. I know where absolutely everything is, aside from the egg replacer (turns out no one there knows where it is, either…might have something to do with the fact that there is some question as to what, exactly, it is). The friendly faces of the staff members will be missed, as well – including one gentleman my hubby and I both worked with years ago at a different job, and a courtesy clerk who treats my hubby like a rock star and makes us smile about it every time.

Our landlady, who has a magical green thumb and grows the most incredible nicotiana and tomato plants I’ve ever seen, and who has always been so kind and generous and thoughtful.

The perennial flower beds that I’ve tended for nearly twenty years…which, well, *sob.* I can’t even begin to tell you how much I will miss them. The balcony in our new place is small and I will be restricted to just a few plants in containers. It will be very difficult for me.

The community garden that I’ve been a member of for five years and served on the organizing committee for.  I met some fascinating people through the garden – everyone with diverse backgrounds, education, and opinions – and learned several lessons about plants and life (!) during my experience there.  I am delighted that there is a community garden near our new place, and I’m already growing some veggies there. I’m starting off small this year (both due to a serious lack of time and a cutworm problem that is unfortunately keeping the plants in check), but hopefully next year’s growing season will be more promising.

The plants in the community that mark the seasons in their own ways: the neighbour’s yellow forsythia in early spring, the soft-needled larch trees in the park next door, the ginormous lilac hedge along the drive.  The mayday tree out front with its sickly sweet-scented but gorgeous white flowers, the snowball viburnums in front of the building across from us.  The plums and crabapples down the street, and the splendid mountain ash with their persistent berries.  Even the green ash tree that has threatened to drop branches on our truck in stormy weather several times over the years.

Nose Hill.  If you’ve followed Flowery Prose for a while, you’ll know this is my favourite place to walk and I have posted many, many photographs of the flowers and the landscape there.  Of course, I will still be living in the same city and I will still be able to travel to Nose Hill to walk there but because of the distance, I know I will not be able to go there as often as I do now.  On the plus side, in the new community, there will be several new parks to explore.

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The northern flickers that nest in the trees outside the back door of our apartment building. They are a joy to watch.

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Photo credit: R. Normandeau

The jackrabbits and the squirrels.  Yes, they ate or dug up great chunks of my garden most years, but you can’t help but smile when you see these little furry bundles of energy.  Even while you’re clapping your hands and chasing after them, screaming, “Get out of there, you little ********!” and your neighbours are all going to their windows and lifting the curtains and wondering what the crazy lady is doing this time.

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The library branch I used to work at, a twenty minute walk from my home. I dearly miss the friends I made there – but I know I will keep in touch with many of them in years to come.

That dude who takes his acoustic guitar out on sunny days in the summer and sits on the bench in front of our building and treats us all to some great music.

Cross country skiing in the park next to our apartment.  Especially fun after a fresh snowfall, at night, when it’s quiet and you’re the first to make tracks and the snow is all powdery and perfect and sparkling in the street lamps.

The courtyard of the school where, in the summer, I used to go to read and enjoy the weather on my lunch breaks from work.  One late afternoon, I hid out under the roof for nearly an hour while the most insane thunderstorm I’ve ever seen raged around me.  There was so much lightning and thunder and rain that I had to wait it all out before safely walking home.  Lightning hit a generating station a few kilometres away and the resulting sonic boom was terrifying and awesome.  And…then there was that time I was reading and I heard a noise nearby.  I looked up to see that something…someone…had opened the window of the classroom next to me and stuck a hand out the window.  To say I was freaked out is an understatement, as the school was closed for the summer.  Sure, it could have been a janitor (that’s what I tell myself, anyway), but in truth, there were no cars in the parking lot and the hand sort of just “felt” the air and went back inside, leaving the window ajar. Not really the behaviour of a janitor, but how else to explain it?  And no, I wasn’t reading Stephen King at the time.

The neighbourhood Korean barbeque place that doesn’t have an English name, where my co-workers and I delighted in some really delicious, cheap meals for birthday and other celebratory lunches.  It has the plainest decor and you can seat perhaps a maximum of twenty people in the place, but the food is really stellar.  Sometimes those tiny hole-in-the-wall places are the best.

The community arena where my hubby and I occasionally watched junior lacrosse games.  It’s one of those places where the reek of sweat has completely saturated the entire building, from the floorboards to the ceiling, and you can probably get athlete’s foot from merely sitting on the spectator bleachers, but it’s so fun to watch Canada’s national summer sport grow with these kids.  Sometimes, if we were lucky, we caught a glimpse of one or two well-known professional (current and retired) lacrosse players coaching their students in the field outside the arena.

If you had to move today, what are a few of the things you’d miss about your current home and the community where you live?  

 

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Alberta snapshot: Hawk Hill Calgary Sentinels.

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The monoliths of artist Beverly Pepper’s Hawk Hill Calgary Sentinels are an impressive feature of Ralph Klein Park in Calgary.  You can read more about Pepper’s work here.  I took this photo on a stormy, sticky-hot and mosquito-heavy August morning last year – as we walked in the park, we saw a small funnel cloud in the distance, far to the east and travelling away from us.

Ralph Klein Park is actually pretty impressive all-around.  Named after the province’s colourful former premier (d. 2013), the park is part of the massive Shepard Wetland: the largest constructed stormwater treatment wetland in the entire country.  The wetland is 160 hectares in size and can hold up to 6 million cubic metres of stormwater, if necessary. (You can read more about it here). The park also contains a public community orchard and the incredibly beautiful LEED Gold-certified Environmental Education and Ethics Centre, which rises above the water on stilts and has accessible catwalks and decks for visitors to wander. (It’s also home to artwork from Peter von Tiesenhausen and shows off attractive and useful gabion walls, inside and out). All this…and it’s home to a huge variety of bird species!

November blog fun.

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Somehow we’ve already reached the eleventh month of the year…I must have had either a wicked caffeine buzz or slept through the rest of the months because I have no idea how we arrived here so quickly.  Time doesn’t just fly, it moves at warp speed.  (“Warped” speed may be more apt in my case).

If you’re in need of a five-minute breather (yup!), I’ve rounded up a few links you should/will definitely! enjoy:

“The Hidden Dangers of Botany” will have all the avid gardeners giggling and nodding in complete understanding.  We totally do this, don’t we?

They aren’t flowery, but these absolutely incredible photographs of wild horses made my jaw drop.  The word “breathtaking” doesn’t do them proper justice.

And here are some equally outstanding photographs of birds eating, fighting, looking after their young, and generally just looking spectacular doing their thing.

Finally, the photos from the finalists for the 2016 Comedy Wildlife Photo Awards are hilarious and charming.

Some stuff I’ve posted elsewhere:

A super-yummy Pumpkin Pancakes recipe on Grit.com.

A bunch of book reviews (should really be book “mentions”) on The Door is Ajar:

Annnnnndd….my flash fiction story “The Architect” was just published online by 365 Tomorrows.  Plus, Herb Quarterly‘s Winter 2016 issue (on newsstands now) includes my article “A Garden Bounty: Propagating Herbs By Cuttings and Layering.”

Hope your week is amazing!

Clipart credit.

Neither flowery nor prose-y. Aiming for “cute.”

Something has been bothering me lately. I think it could be argued that my blog lacks a certain critical “cuteness factor.”

*shamelessly inserts photo of fuzzy, adorable baby duckling*

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I believe I have that taken care of now….   😉

The don’ts of bird photography, part 2.

This black-capped chickadee clearly wasn’t ready for his close-up.  And neither was I.  😉

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See the first Don’t here….

Alberta Snapshot: Forgetmenot Pond.

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A late-day shot of the beautiful pond in the shadow of Forgetmenot Mountain, near Bragg Creek, Alberta.

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This cheeky gray jay (whiskey jack) was out with his buddies, buzzing daringly near my hubby and I, looking for handouts.  The pond is a popular picnic site and fishing hole during the summer, so the birds are used to getting “people” food.   I know they don’t migrate south for the winter, but I had to look up their cold-weather diet:  like their Corvidae relatives magpies and crows, they’ll eat pretty much anything from fruit to carrion, and they’ll even cache food in trees (actually, “on” trees is more accurate, as they apparently glue their food to tree branches using their saliva).  Interesting little guys.  I find them so entertaining to watch.