Heidi Greco's Blog, page 7

Fleeting

Feels like summer is flying past too quickly. Not as fast as the blur of the hummingbird's wings, but wheee, here we go, nearly August!

The blackberries are fat and sweet and plentiful, but the rest of the fruit in the yard is pretty pathetic. Even the quince tree (usually loaded) has only a few for us to pick this year. Maybe by September, a few more will have magically appeared. 

Worst, I suppose, is the plum tree: one plum. At least that was the score last time I checked. Who knows, the squirrel may have decided it looked ripe enough for him. 

Lettuces, basil, tomatoes--hurrah for the die-hards. Even if the freezer won't be filled with berries this year, at least we're still happily enjoying fresh salads. 

And probably best of all, after a couple of months with no hummers in sight, it's great that a pair (at least) seems to have returned. 

There's a moon out tonight

It won't be full until tomorrow, but I'm thinking about it today. Because 55 years ago, many of us were watching tv as men took the first human steps (that we know of) on the moon. 

I remember it seeming almost magical. And of course, there were plenty who poo-pooed it as fake--maybe the first instance of what we now know as 'fake news'. 

It's hard for me to not still look at my friend the moon and think about all those years ago when two of the crew members from Apollo 11 stepped onto a rock out in space, the first off-Earth such a venture. And yes, that still seems quite magical to me.

Fresh from the farm and garden

A long time ago, in 2009, I kept a year-long blog where I posted a photo and a bit of running commentary on whatever it was we were having for supper that night. I called it 'what's fer supper' and it's still online, hanging out wherever these things reside in the ether we've come to call the cloud. 

The photo above isn't supper, but rather a late breakfast, maybe one you'd have to call brunch, though on a Sunday that doesn't seem too out of line. 

The omelet, made from eggs I get from Karen, my 'egg lady' are beautifully farm-fresh. If you look closely, you can see a bit of grass from her hens' nesting materials on that lovely brown egg. 

The potatoes, from the few left over from last night's supper, were a gift from my wonderful neighbour, Anna, whose garden is an urban paradise. 

Filling for the omelet is from our little kitchen garden, just outside the back door. It was time to cut back the arugula, as it was bolting into a zillion little white flowers. A few seconds in the microwave was all it took to wilt the leaves a bit. Along with them, I folded a bunch of the flowers into the eggs as well. Then, since almost everything is better with cheese, a couple shreds of havarti got melted in there as well. 

Not a bad way to kick off a day that's turning out to be one of watching heaps of soccer on tv!

A different sort of caution

It was only the second time in my life that I'd been on Cortes Island, one of the Gulf Islands along the coast here in B.C. 

So I hope I can be forgiven for getting a little bit lost. 

Luckily I noticed pretty quickly that I'd taken a wrong turn off the main road, but what fun to find a sign that made me smile. 

Glad I took the photo. I hope it makes you smile too. 

Here they come!

Another round of pruning the blackberries serves to remind me that the job is worth the effort. The branches are loaded with a burden of would-be berries. Bees are busy at work, pollinating the flowers. Some of the stems already bear miniature fruit. 

The timing seems right, as tomorrow will be Solstice. And even the weather seems to finally be in agreement, the sun's ray offering comfort and warmth. 

Now if only the rest of the world could display such harmony as this little patch of what most consider an invasive weed brings to my heart (and to folks along my laneway who get their own section for picking). 

Tide's out

...and so were we. Out on a small camping trip, though hardly what I'd call 'real' camping, as we don't sleep in a tent much anymore, but in the comfy protection of The Rattler, our beloved RV. 

It had been a busy time, with a visitor staying with us, along with several touristical trips (all interesting, beautiful and happy), but last week became our turn for complete rest and relaxation. 

A quick trip to the nearby Point Roberts and the campgrounds at Lighthouse Marine Park filled the bill. Except for the sounds of birdsong (and the occasional excitement of a small plane coming in on the grassy landing strip) it was wonderfully quiet, leaving us with nothing much to do beyond strolling on the beach. 

This time of year sees the broadest beach exposure, owing to the big tides that accompany the days around the Solstice. Official days of summer, coming soon. More excuses, I trust, to be lazy. 

Gone, gone, gone

I used to live in a house on a steep hill. It was so drastic a slant, the first few days of living there, I had flashes of vertigo when I looked out the dining room window. 

The house was torn down over a year ago, but the big tree on the boulevard was still standing--until very recently. 

Even though it was old (we counted over 80 distinct rings), it was healthy. Just look at all the fresh greenery on it. 

And oh, such a coincidence, the way it came down on a weekend when it seemed the bylaw folks had the day off. Naturally, no evidence of a permit on the property...

This is what White Rock accepts as 'progress'--nothing 'pro' about it in my mind. 

Let's just hope the tree wasn't all that was supporting that steep hillside. 

Fun while it lasted

There's something so special about those rare seasons when the Canucks make it into the Stanley Cup playoffs. And this year was no different. 

The buses ran 'Go Canucks Go' on their front banners. As you can see, the giant electronic sign at the ferry terminal (above) got into the spirit of cheering for the home team too. Even at the end of the last game when they lost, everyone in the arena stood and cheered and cheered and cheered. I loved the spirit of it. 

I remember the spring of 1982 when Vancouver made it into the 3rd round of the playoffs. I was working at an elementary school and we'd taken a bunch of middle-graders to a drama festival in Vancouver. Both ways, riding the school bus, everyone sang the song that had become that season's anthem, "Na Na Na Na Hey Hey-ey Goodbye." 

Tiresome as it was to hear the song repeated for the nearly hour-long ride, it's still a memory that makes me smile. 

Maybe next year, maybe next year...

Double whammy

This little blog has been silent for too long. I'll admit I've mostly been stuck in the doldrums. Partly, I can blame this on the fact that May has always (weirdly) been a hard month for me, despite the gorgeous blossoms everywhere. 
This time it's a situation well beyond my reach and hits like a double-whammy, boding badly for all of our futures. 
The first was the fact that the dreaded pipeline was declared 'open' -- and not for transport of water, the commodity we are going to be short of (and will need) not all that far down the road. Instead, the pipe will be filled with bitumen, a gooey and unpleasant substance that may well find its way into Burrard Inlet and beyond. 
The photo at the top of the page is from one of the protests that took place on Burnaby Mountain when many of us were speaking out in opposition to the project. I was one of many who not only stood in solidarity on that mountain, but who made a presentation to the government committee that crossed the country seeking feedback from citizens. The day I was there, I recall people speaking against it. And now I wonder, just how much did that series of hearings cost, and how did opinions weight out, pro and con? Seems like it was probably just another case of lip service, the powers-that-be pretending to appease the hoi-polloi while the wheels of the oil industry kept on churning. 
As for the double part of the whammy news for May, this month also marks the beginning of the end for farmland and sacred sites along the Peace River as the Site C damned dam is now complete. The resulting lake will be filled this autumn. This at a time when farmland just about everywhere seems threatened. Hmmm. The question our offspring may be facing might be 'where's the food?'

Time for listening

Once again, it's Earth Day, a time to celebrate the beauties of our planet--and, as the sign suggests, to hear (and really listen) to information scientists keep bringing us. As most of us know, their messages aren't good. 

The words in the photo are, as they appear, images frozen into ice. They're part of a longtime exhibit on display in the lobby area of the Surrey Arts Centre. Like the ice in our polar regions, those letters too appear to be melting. 

Despite what our governments are (and aren't) doing, there seem to be a number of solutions, probably starting with making sure our tax monies don't go to supporting oil extraction. The time for subsidizing these economic giants is gone. Even the banks are beginning to divest their investments in oil companies. Other jurisdictions have taken similar steps, and continue encouraging people to invest in alternate energy sources. In California, solar panels on roofs have proven to be too successful (!) with the power company experiencing a glut of its resources because folks are no longer reliant on them. 

Even beyond what we think of as the 'traditional' alternatives--solar and wind--there are other, sometimes controversial solutions being proposed. 

I do like that the word 'hear' shares enough letters with our planet's name to make me think it's appropriate for Earth Day. Besides, it's always a good idea to listen, whether that means hearing the variety of birdsongs in the air during these spring days, or doing our best to listen to everyone we meet, even if their point-of-view doesn't complete jibe with our own. After all, that's our only hope for creating meaningful communities, and communities are what it will take to keep our planet habitable.