I
In the Trees
II
Throwing Rocks
III
River Sitting
IV
Woodland Napping
Archive for the ‘Woods & Rivers’ Category
Swimming Spot: Massawippi River, North of the Mouth of the Coaticook
To get to 45.323320, -71.889162 where we play in the river, I like to bike up Ch. Swede, cross 143, go down Ch. Sherbrooke through “downtown” North Hatley then turn right on Rte. 108 just after it crosses the bridge. Rte. 108 leads to the Route Verte 1.
The Route Verte 1 leads all the way to Sherbrooke, and I have taken it as far. Rumor has it that the path emerges on the other side of the city unscathed and travels far, farther on, tho I have never found it. My inability to ask directions when lost (it’s a language issue, not the same inability that is most frequently associated with the presence of the Y chromosome) has never helped.
From Route Verte 1, back where I was in the first paragraph, I bike along and I bike along until I see a river. The river comes and goes. I shout, “Hello, River!” when I see the river. Just south of Capelton Mine, the Coaticook River that passes through Waterville dumps itself into the Massawippi River flowing up (because north is “up,” not because I believe the river is actually gaining in altitude) from North Hatley. Just north of Capelton Mine there is a bend in the river. Here, at approximately 45.323603, -71.890372, the children and I dismount the bike and walk a short steep slope downward to a path that reaches the river. This is where we find our spot: 45.323320, -71.889162.
The Island in Spring (L’Île du Marais)
We went to the island for Mother’s day. I insisted we go before breakfast.
We spent the morning looking at things.
I took many fascinating photos through a magnifying glass, after which I learned a few things.
One: I have a hard time focusing the camera properly.
Two: magnifying glasses are made of glass, and glass does a lot of reflecting.
In the end of all of it, I ended up with one good magnifying glass photo.
There is a big-ol’ sideways root ball along the path.
It makes Martin feel quite manly to climb a few feet up it,
so he always gratifies himself with a wee climb on ye ol’ root ball.
He talks about how impressive he is to Akiva, so naturally Akiva climbs up it, too.
100% of the time that we visit L’Île du Marais, I have to take a photo at this exact spot.
Just for some variety, I’m leaving the colour up to your imagination this time.
Going through some old photos, I discovered this old photo of her winking into the sunshine while looking in the camera.
Nearly a lifetime and a half later, she’s only getting cuter!
Iris’s 9th Birthday
For Iris’s birthday, she decided she wanted to eat carrot cake on top of Mount Ham. So we did. If mount Ham was good enough for me, then it was good enough for her. Carrot cake was what the rabbits voted for, but we didn’t bring rabbits. At the last minute, Iris also decided to bring a friend. Fortunately, there was a very good one available for last-minute birthday parties on mountain summits.
Hymie and Napua came with us for the purpose of taking photos. Hymie is all fixed up so he could attend the doll party in good form. The biggest difference, aside from the fact that his fabric is now perfect, is that his mouth is about 1/8th of an inch narrower. It’s quite noticeable if you know him! Napua is Megan reincarnated. She includes all of Megan’s stuffing plus some, and her head is configured over Megan’s old head. But really, nothing is the same aside from the fact that Iris still has three dolls instead of four. You wouldn’t recognize her in any way shape or form, but they say that reincarnation is like that.
While Amaëlle took time to finish her cake (she is especially good at savoring), Martin hiked to the other high point on the peak. Once Akiva saw that his papa was all alone, he wanted to go, too! Do you see that tiny blue spot to the left of the slightly larger red spot, just to the right of what appears to be a ham radio tower on the peak?** That’s Akiva! He went all the way over there all by himself.
**It is not actually a ham radio tower: it is the profile of the enormous crucifix where they tortured the last of the wild mountain giants.
How we ended up behind Isabelle’s house—
We went looking for a shortcut,
We went looking east and west,
But we did not find a shortcut—
We decided long was best.
Frog on Ice (Johnville Bog & Forest Park)
Where the sun shines most, the snow was mostly melted.
Unfortunately for this ambitious amphibian, many paths were still coated in ice.
The Island in Winter
We walk to the island. The children take turns pulling.
Akiva does not need to drink much water in winter: he eats the snowballs from his fleece mittens. When I notice his once-white chewing gum has become pink, I realize he has side-stepped the food-chain of microplastics consumption assumed in oceanic plastics pollution studies and gone directly to the source. I wonder how many thousands of plastic microfibers he has consumed on this walk. I feel helpless.
At the island, the tire swing, high above the river in summer, hangs low above the snow.
Iris steps on—
—swing!
Akiva, shorter rounder and nearly as heavy, is more timid on the swing.
Iris pushes him gently.
He smiles bravely.
Johnville Bog, Winter
In winter, the boggy back trails of the Johnville Bog & Forest Park freeze over.
The park management opens them up for foot traffic.
Far off the well-beaten track of boardwalks and open bog lands, the boreal forest is full of hops.*
We examine some rabbit poo. They seem to have been eating mostly bark and needles.
Looking around, I have no idea what else rabbits could possibly eat.
*Rabbit tracks
Le marais dans la neige
Last year’s walk across the ice at the Ile du Marais was delightfully memorable, so we invited Martin to come with us this year. Perhaps because it is earlier in the year, there is more snow and many more people. There are also trucks, vans and ATVs driving on the ice. Fishing houses crowd the lake. When we walk around to the back side of the biggest island where the fishing is poor, there are many fewer people. A couple of ATV drivers, beers in hand, stink up the air and ruin the quiet as they speed randomly through the protected area of the marsh. The ice between the marsh plants becomes unpredictable. Past the area where ATVs can drive, tiny footprints trace paths between the vegetation. For a few minutes, there is silence.
