Two Ladies and a Little Boy Go Tenting: July 30, 2019

The morning I took my tent over to set up in my grandson’s back yard was the last day I saw Mrs. alive at the river.  I didn’t know it then, but the female Bald Eagle’s beautiful and peaceful time with me at the Bow River’s edge would be her last and so I will always treasure the archive of photographs my readers might enjoy, here.

I kind of chuckle about that sentence as I leave it behind in my first paragraph, imagining that anyone at all might read the thoughts or passage of time shared by a 64 year old woman.  I feel some days as though I am still a young girl who marvels at the beauty and rich loam of the mysterious gully across from my home on Market Street.  I don’t feel different and yet so many years and so many places have gone by!

When in doubt about how a camping trip might be arranged between a Gramma and her Grandson, it is best not to let the logistics interfere with the experience, and so, sometimes you just have to go ahead and make things happen.

Little did I know that a tent would simply provide yet another way for trucks and diggers to be celebrated.  In the tent we went with the big yellow trucks…and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Thank you, Linda, for our tea and snacks. Steven and I headed out to a very busy construction site.   Once returned, Gramma rolled up her sleeping bags and packed up her tent and was on her way.  A call for severe thunderstorms that afternoon, made this call, the safe call.

The river is no longer silty and the clarity of the water in the morning, allowed beautiful hues of turquoise and green to shine through.  Max is always my trusted companion on these early morning walks.

First things first…the fly sheet goes down.  ‘Say fly sheet, Steven.’

‘Fly Sheet’.


There was an orangy-yellow glow to everything that evening at the river.  I watched two beaver for almost a half hour before walking north west and finding Mrs. quietly observing her world from above.  That night I confirmed that her talons on the left had damage.

 

More of Mark!

I guess I’ve published a few posts, now, about  Mark Vazquez-Mackay.

Here

and

Here

and

Here

Gee, I must be a fan!  And…I am!

Last Friday night, Mark exhibited his travel sketches at the Rumble House.  I hope that my Calgary readers took the opportunity to enjoy this show and the narratives and the hospitality.  It was a wonderful thing!  While I won’t write a lot here, I will post my documentation of the exhibit.

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The next three photographs are posted, with permission by the photographer, Rich Theroux, on the trade that I will show up for figure drawing on Thursday night. :0)

Mark V's show 4Mark V's show3Mark V's show

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Cross-Canada Driving

Buffalo Pound Provincial Park

So, another trip is in the works.   We grew up making this trip on Mom and Dad’s airforce-moves and there is something absolutely magical about revisiting that west->east migration.  The artist Rene Derouin has been captivated by a lifetime migration north^south, from his home along the St. Lawrence River to Mexico City and back again. (I LOVE HIS WORK !) My life journey, the one that comes naturally to me, has been west ->east and west again.  Not many will tell you that they love the Trans Canada highway, but for me, it’s a beautiful place.  Every province offers its particular beauty.

I’ve decided to share the planning of this journey because ultimately the writing and research will get me excited.  And I AM truly excited!  I will be minimalist camping, as per usual and am seeking out new and wonderful places to see along the way.  Two years ago, departing from Raymond, Alberta, I made it to Buffalo Pound Provincial Park, just north of Moose Jaw, for my first night.  It was exquisite and nothing could be better than the grilled chicken and fresh vegetables my daughter prepared for us, while we sipped on cold Coronas!  

So, this summer, the first leg of the journey will be Calgary to Moose Jaw OR beyond.  I had earlier invited your thoughts and suggestions, but of course I’ve just realized that you don’t read this blog, so this is really for me to explore alone.  Alright…a few minutes of searching the web!  Gillian, your thoughts about your husband’s thoughts on blogging were ‘magical’!  I’m still wearing a smile over it! 

Early Morning Water-Watching With Max

Pelicans

Beautiful pelicans…a huge v formation, perhaps forty of them less than fifty feet above us…sound of wings whistled in rhythmic up downs up downs up downs…long beaks…our necks strained back to look as they passed over us, southeast on the river…magic…my son and I quietly talking to one another by the campfire.
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