Regal Eagle at the Deli

Sometimes when I drive by this tree at the side of the estuary, it is loaded with bald eagles, decorating it like so many Christmas tree ornaments.

Today there was only one eagle — an immature one at that. The rest were busy foraging below the tree  and up the river mouth at the Regal Eagle Deli. The last putrefied chum salmon lie like wet paper towels on the banks, exposed by the dropping tide.

Perhaps this one had eaten his fill and couldn’t stomach one more mouthful of rotten fish.

“Oh rats!” he says. “Another bird watcher.”

“I’ll give her my Exorcist pose – body facing one way, head looking the other. That’ll confuse her so she won’t know which is front or back.”



“Now, where was I? Oh yeah … urp … trying to digest that disgusting fermenting fish.”

Regal eagle looks for food, 

Fish again? Not in the mood.

Chilly air, he shivers high

In the tree so he can spy

Rotten fish washed up below.

Better eat in case of snow.

Leaner times around the bend,

Need to eat or life could end.

Though he’d like fish still alive

Choosy eagles don’t survive.

Boil, Boil, Boil!

Great excitement this morning. A warm light bathed the maple trunks on the hillside below our house. I hadn’t seen sunshine in days and days and days. I grabbed the camera, took this quick snap of the trees and came back in the house.

Moments later, as the sun rose higher, the light changed and I had to go out on deck for another picture.

The brightness extended to the bay on the left and lit up the water.

Ignoring the ugly hydro line, do you see the colour difference right about where the line crosses the photo? We’ve had so much rain lately that the small silt-laden rivers that empty into the bay have turned the water brown near their mouth.

Flooding and excess run-off have necessitated yet another “Boil Water Advisory” for the town. I’m so thankful to be living outside of town and having our own well that is very, very, very deep, with clear, wonderful water.

The townspeople must be thinking of the lines of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem, “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” where he says, “Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.”

Do you have boil water advisories in your area? Flooding? Any sunshine?

Pea Soup?

Canadians have had Thanksgiving in October, but our Americans friends are giving thanks for their good fortune and blessings this week, on November 23.

I had a thought about Thanksgiving. Why not have pea soup instead of turkey? It’s all around us with this fog as thick as pea soup.

November weather tests us hard

Makes us eat more, donning lard

On the thighs and round our ribs,

We wish the weight scale told us fibs,

Now we need to eat some more,

Friends and family at the door, 

Time for all to meet and greet,

Turkey dinner can’t be beat,

But with fog like thick pea soup,

Why not feed it to the group?

Not enough, I hear you say,

We want roast  turkey anyway.

I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving. I know we are all thankful for what we have. It’s not just about the food, but about giving and sharing, and loving our treasured family and friends everywhere.

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***If you are a writer, you might be interested in my post on my Anneli’s Place blog.***

https://annelisplace.wordpress.com/2017/11/22/your-reputation-as-a-writer/

 

The Suet Block is Always Tastier on the Other Side

“So glad I got here first. That pushy Steller’s jay would be hogging both suet blocks if he could.”

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“Darn it all. That flicker got the best suet block. If I’d only been a few seconds faster, it would have been all mine, for me, myself, and I.

I’ll have to take the left over one. I’m sure it’s not as good as the one  Mr. Polka-dot is nibbling at. If he were a tad smaller, I’d scare him off, like I do the little runts that come here looking for a free handout.”

“Good, he’s gone. I’ll give that other suet block a try. Hope it doesn’t stick to my beak like that other block does.”

“Let’s see…. One big leap and a quick turn in the air and I’ll be up there. Can’t wait to get my beak into that treat.”

“Now for a taste of the good stuff.

Blech! Yech. Blech. He sure didn’t let on it tasted that bad. Yuck! Where can I spit?”

“Oh well … I’ll do without. The missus says I’m getting a bit of a belly anyway.”

***Please don’t forget to check on my other blog. Right now I have an interesting guest author with a beautiful children’s book for you, just in time for Christmas. Why not click to follow https://annelisplace.wordpress.com/  

A Sunny Cloud

Early in the morning, the sun’s first rays hit the top of the hills and one lonely leftover cloud. I’ve learned keep the camera handy and to drop everything when the light is right. Sure enough, less than a minute later, the light changed and the magic was gone.

Cloud Talk

 

I didn’t have the heart to add

Another drop of rain

With all the cloudbursts you have had

It could become a pain.

 

I’d rather brighten up your day

With promises of joy

For drought relief, a price you pay

Too much rain can annoy.

 

The Front that Backed

In my younger days when I heard the weatherman talking about a front moving in, I had only a vague idea of what that meant. It was some “up in the sky” kind of condition involving air pressure and a lot of other complicated meteorological terms. Later, I clued in that sometimes you can see the effects of a “front.” I can more easily understand things that I can see.

This morning I saw a front in action in the sky outside my house. I used to think the front was the edge of the clouds moving in like a giant wall. Amazingly, the cloudy side was not advancing, as it usually seemed to do. This one was backing off. Instead, the edge of the blue sky was pushing away the wall of clouds. The wind was coming from the north, bringing clear, cold air into the valley.

The rising sun put a pink glow on the clouds and the snow on the hilltops.

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Just in case we’re all getting too happy about the sunny day, I need to let you know that later in the morning, the winds changed to southeast and precipitation is sure to follow sometime soon. If only I could save some of that rain for the summer when the drought is sure to hit again.

Two More Months?

January is a long month. Thirty-one days of cold, dreary weather. March is still two months away. I look out on my garden. It looks so neglected that I find it hard to believe I harvested carrots from it just yesterday. Yes, in January! They were small carrots, and oh, so sweet! But that’s it for now until the soil warms up.

I hope the snow stays up in the hills. Misty clouds obscure the glacier on the opposite side of the bay.

I thought I could tough it out and spring would be here soon, but I caved. I went shopping for some colour to brighten up these last days of winter. Every time I look at my new orchids, I feel better, knowing that spring will come soon.

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Two more months until it’s spring?

Two more months till robins sing?

How am I to wait that long?

Hope the weatherman is wrong,

Talking about rain and snow.

I just wish that it would go.

Time for sunny days to be.

Two more months? You orchid-ing me!

 

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