After weeks of waiting, one owlet is big enough to come out… a nesting doll.
Waking up is hard work. Early owly yawn:
like my fur?
Where’s little bro? He’s too young to come out. Still in the nest… taking it all in:
…. six days later, I found little bro out with Papa or Mama, see him?
No? How about now, zooming in:
and a close-up:
Here’s looking at you, kid. Soon, they’ll be gone, and another season of anticipation will pass. The circle of life.
To the movies next.
***
The horrific destruction of the town in Jasper National Park by wildfire yesterday makes me feel mournful not only for the human loss of homes and businesses––25,000 residents and visitors have evacuated, many with no homes to return to––but also for the majestic, natural beauty and the wildlife dwelling there. How do animals and even birds escape the engulfing fire, with flames reaching 100 metres high? The drive from Banff to Jasper is one of the most beautiful Parkways in Canada. As I write this, one third of the historic town of Jasper has been burned or damaged. The fire is still going, actually, hundreds of wild fires are still burning in Alberta and BC.
The posting of my birding experience on Ripple Effects seems to have taken a new purpose now:
to preserve memories, my very own encounter with Nature and the raw, authentic moments, for I know, these too are ephemeral.
The following are some of the visual memories I’ve gathered in the past month near the Pond. First off, the summer wild flora, blooming bright and colourful are the Alberta provincial flower, the Wild Rose. If you can ID the other ones, do let me know:
Snow in July? Fortunately not. Thanks to poplar cotton, a monotonous stream now looks dramatic:
It’s always a pleasant surprise to see a deer suddenly appear nearby, and this is a handsome, young one:
A favourite sighting any time… the Belted Kingfisher, not easy to spot, but their distinct rattle calls give them away:
High up on a tree branch, the Osprey is chomping its prey. You can see half a fish under its claws:
For these two hungry baby European Starlings, it’s door dash delivery by Mama Starling, not fast enough as always:
As for Mama, she just can’t wait to see babies grow up to search for their own food, just like these lovely Yellow Warblers:
or this hungry Robin, swallowing whole a worm as long as its own body:
The ephemeral nature of life… the worm sure knows what that means.
Many gems in this treasure trove of poetry from Mary Oliver’s Devotions. For a birder, these simple words particularly resonate. Sharing a few here:
THIS MORNING
This morning the redbirds’ eggs
have hatched and already the chicks
are chirping for food. They don’t
know where it’s coming from, they
just keep shouting, “More! More!”
As to anything else, they haven’t
had a single thought. Their eyes
haven’t yet opened, they know nothing
about the sky that’s waiting. Or
the thousands, the millions of trees.
They don’t even know they have wings.
And just like that, like a simple
neighborhood event, a miracle is
taking place.
I WAKE CLOSE TO MORNING
Why do people keep asking to see
God’s identity papers
when the darkness opening into morning
is more than enough?
Certainly any god might turn away in disgust.
Think of Sheba approaching
the kingdom of Solomon.
Do you think she had to ask,
“Is this the place?”
ON MEDITATING, SORT OF
Meditation, so I’ve heard, is best accomplished
if you entertain a certain strict posture.
Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree.
So why should I think I could ever be successful?
Some days I fall asleep, or land in that
even better place—half asleep—where the world,
spring, summer, autumn, winter—
flies through my mind in its
hardy ascent and its uncompromising descent.
So I just lie like that, while distance and time
reveal their true attitudes: they never
heard of me, and never will, or ever need to.
Of course I wake up finally
thinking, how wonderful to be who I am,
made out of earth and water,
my own thoughts, my own fingerprints—
all that glorious, temporary stuff.
THE WORLD I LIVE IN
I have refused to live
locked in the orderly house of
reasons and proofs.
The world I live in and believe in
is wider than that. And anyway,
what’s wrong with Maybe?
You wouldn’t believe what once or
twice I have seen. I’ll just
tell you this:
only if there are angels in your head will you
ever, possibly, see one.
***
As I look through my photos taken in the past few weeks, I find that the prominent colours are yellow and green. We don’t have bright red birds like the cardinal, so, I’ve long settled for yellow, green and blue as my summer colours.
Two goldfinches made my day, vibrant golden yellow. They seemed not to be bothered by my presence as they were too busy with their breakfast:
well except this one with attitude:
Another sort of yellow, unintended, for I was aiming at the wren. Only when I uploaded the photo did I notice the lichen on the stump:
Sometimes, an accidental shot needs not be deleted. Why, this looks like an impressionist painting to me:
This one most symbolic, for the colours yellow and blue remind me of a war-torn country with millions of her people fleeing from their homeland. May this tiny yellow warbler, always so full of life and song, be a symbol of resilience for the ravaged country of Ukraine:
***
Like a gentle breeze under the shade of a full, oak tree to dispel the summer heat, this little gem of a movie is a fairy tale, surely pure escapism from a harsh and scorching world. Newly released on July 15, this is a delightful watch not just for the summer.
Mrs. Ada Harris (Lesley Manville) is a cleaning lady and war widow in 1957 London, scraping by counting pennies cleaning people’s homes and offering to do invisible mending in her spare time. One day, seeing a Christian Dior dress while cleaning the home of Lady Dant (Anna Chancellor) sets off an adventure of a lifetime. Mrs. Harris wants to save enough money to go to Paris and buy one for herself. Dreams are for everyone; Mrs. Harris has the will, and she’ll find the way somehow.
Adapted from Paul Gallico’s novella, director Anthony Fabian brings to the screen a fairy tale for adult viewers, and with the cooperation of Christian Dior in Paris, turns the haute couture of fashion into a down-to-earth story of the ordinary people. Mrs. Harris is as invisible as her mending, but her heart and personality stand out to be noticed and exude her vibes in gentle persuasion.
Paul Gallico (1876-1976) is a wonderful weaver of tales. The Snow Goose is the most memorable read from my growing up years. I have not read his Mrs. Harris Goes to... series, but after watching this movie, it’s on my TBR list. Not as soul stirring as The Snow Goose or dramatic as The Poseidon Adventure (1972 movie adaptation), Mrs. Harris nonetheless reaffirms kindness, beauty and hope still exist and are much needed to dispel the harshness of our times.
Lesley Manville is the driving force in this movie. The versatile actor first caught my admiration in Mike Leigh’s Another Year (2010) playing the vulnerable and lonely character Mary, for which she was nominated and had won several acting awards. Manville can also be brutal and violent, like the powerful matriarch in Let Him Go (2020), and then turn into Princess Margaret in The Crown (S5, 2022). But to be more in line with this current film is her role in Phantom Thread (2017) playing Daniel Day-Lewis’ co-dependent sister, a role for which she received an Oscar nom.
Supporting cast is strong. Isabelle Huppert (Things to Come, 2016; Gabrielle, 2005) plays the manager and gatekeeper of the Dior fashion house, Mrs. Colbert, a character that reminds me of Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada (2006). In a scene towards the end of the movie, we see a different Mrs. Colbert in her humble home, stripped down, ordinary and vulnerable. A poignant moment. Other supporting roles are also effective, like Mrs. Harris’ loyal friend Vi (Ellen Thomas), the gentle and caring Archie (Jason Isaacs), and the young pair of fresh faces, Alba Baptista playing Natasha, the model with a deeper aspiration and her secret admirer André (Lucas Bravo, Emily in Paris).
What caught my attention from the start was the original soundtrack composed by Rael Jones (Suite Française, 2014). The music corresponds perfectly with the lighthearted mood, flowing by smoothly like a whimsical character. At the end as the credits roll, there’s a piece with a waltz styling. I noticed as the audience exited, what looked like a mother and her adult daughter dancing to the tune, the first time I saw such a spontaneous ripple effect in a movie theatre.
There are some down period in the middle of the film, however, the cast and the camera make up for such moments. Overall, a delightful two-hour respite from the summer heat, or any season.
~ ~ ~ Ripples
__________________
A Paris in July 2022 post, event hosted by Thyme for Tea and Readerbuzz.
One or two things are all you need
to travel over the blue pond, over the deep
roughage of the trees and through the stiff
flowers of lightning–––some deep
memory of pleasure, some cutting
knowledge of pain.
For years and years I struggled
just to love my life. And then
the butterfly
rose weightless, in the wind,
“Don’t love your life
too much,” it said,
and vanished
into the world.
––– Mary Oliver, lines from “One or Two Things”
***
One of my favourite poems is William Wordsworth’s I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud. Here’s the first stanza:
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Last week, that’s what I did. I followed a trail I seldom took and let it lead me to serendipity, like sighting this bald eagle. I didn’t see any daffodils, but lots of wildflowers which I couldn’t name.
Many, many summers ago, I was pondering about which subject to major in for university. Botany came to mind, for I was fond of plants. At the end, I decided on studying humans instead, hence, remaining illiterate when it comes to flora of all kinds, especially their technical terms. I must say, though, as you may well know, humans are much harder to decipher. Knowing names is the easiest part.
Here are some of the wildflowers I saw. If you can help me name them, so much the better. But let’s start off with this one which I know, and that’s our Provincial Flower: The Wild Rose.
Are these some kind of wild daisies?
Love the colour of these delicate blue petals:
A kind of Goldenrod?
Fuchsia isn’t a favourite colour of mine, but it looks stunning for flowers. This one particularly stands out, for it’s almost 6 ft. high:
I’d to stretch my hands way up to take this closeup:
A similar kind that’s a bright bluish purple. I caught it just when an insect was heading straight to it:
That’s when I realized, surely, for me these might be objects of natural beauty, for many, they are food and sustenance. Like these bees feeding on nectar:
And of course, berries for the birds:
I’ll let Wordsworth have the last word. Just replace daffodils with any of the above…
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
________________
Try it, dancing on the couch.
For the first time in months, I set foot into a public library yesterday. To be exact, three different branches, to make up for a regular activity I’d enjoyed before the Covid lockdown. Our library system is very modern, creative, and full of resources, a pleasure to visit. The New Central Library opened two years ago had become a tourist point-of-interest even.
Yesterday I didn’t head all the way downtown to the main attraction (picture above). A visit to a branch closer to my home welcomed me with numerous brand new paperbacks. As they’ve been closed for a few months, new books kept coming in and now they have the chance to display them. Piles and piles of them, all brand new. I couldn’t resist but drove to two other branches just to check out their new offerings.
The following is a list of books I got from my library escapade yesterday. Just in time for the summer staycation. All pristine, never-opened (that’s important in this Covid time) brand new paperbacks. Which ones have you read? What books are you reading this summer, this very extraordinary summer. I welcome your two pebbles thrown into the Pond and share some ripples with us.
Paris Echo by Sebastian Faulks –– I was thinking of reading this for ‘Paris in July’ all because of the title, but not sure now since it’s quite late in the month. I’ve always wanted to read a S. Faulks novel knowing his work had been turned into movies and TV series, e.g. Charlotte Gray and Birdsong.
Summer of ’69 by Elin Hilderbrand –– I haven’t read any books by Elin Hilderbrand, hailed as the ‘Queen of Beach Reads’. Two of her books are in development now for a movie. I’m far from the beach, any beach, but hope this one can offer some sunny breaks at least during my staycation.
The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow –– The book cover is the main attraction plus this blurb on the front cover: “Unbrearably beautiful.” And some more on the back, like this one: “A gorgeous, aching love letter to stories, storytellers, and the doors they lead us through. Absolutely enchanting.” How can I resist?
Quichotte by Salman Rushdie –– I knew about this book, actually have been debating if I should read it without having read Cervantes’ Don Quixote. I’d appreciated Rushdie’s writing, imaginative and original, but also not easily accessible. Will see.
.
My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell –– I’ve seen this title everywhere, and know the general story idea, and all the controversies and ripples it has generated. I’d just like to sit down quietly without having to be influenced by the cacophony from all sides, and just read it.
Reader, Come Home by Maryanne Wolf –– Subtitle: The Reading Brain in a Digital World. I’ve started reading it and find it quite interesting. I missed Wolf’s earlier book Proust and the Squid so here’s a catch-up and a welcome update. A scholar, educator and developmental researcher on reading and the brain, Wolf is an advocate for ‘deep reading.’ This is going to be a slow read.
The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
––– Mary Oliver
***
… in between movies. Get out of the dark chamber. Off the snack-littered couch. Watch the large screen Nature has to offer.
Nothing is ‘just a sparrow’. Or, just some rocks. Here’s the true colour of the water in Lake Louise, Alberta. The famous, majestic lake you’ve probably seen on postcards or travel websites, but here you get to see the tiny sparrow by the Lake:
Blurry? Yes, so’s Monet’s paintings.
After a few days of rain, yesterday’s sunlight brought me out to the river. My heart leapt up when I saw these Pelicans preening in the morning sun:
Makes me think of Degas’ ballerinas:
Blurry? You wouldn’t mind a bit, I bet.
***
No matter where you stand in the food chain, in the summer woods, everywhere you turn is a ready picnic, nature’s smorgasbord. Just look at all these flies:
Yummy appetizers for the Yellow Warbler:
Or this succulent fruit. I’m sure the bee knows he’s an item on the smorgasbord too.
But for the moment, indulge:
Not so lucky for this dragonfly, securely locked in the beaks of a Song Sparrow:
Robins are clean eaters, they swallow berries whole:
But not the Goldfinch:
Eat to your heart’s content, no need for etiquette here:
This baby Oriole in its high chair waiting for lunch. Be patient, junior, mommy’s coming:
Take it easy, my Deer friend. I wouldn’t want to do the Heimlich Maneuver on you:
***
What’s your summer smorgasbord like?
To be technically accurate, here are some photos I took after June 21. Not that I’m partial to the colour yellow, but that’s mostly the colour of our summer woods, greenish yellow.
Sometimes you can see dots of pink, the Alberta wild rose:
or tiny red fruits:
Golden cattails by the water before they ripen into brown candlesticks:
The Pond in summer is quiet. In contrast, the woods host a cacophony of songs and calls, like the tuning of strings and woodwinds before a symphony concert, albeit finding the actual sources is difficult, let alone taking photographs of them. The blurry pics just show how hard it is to find them staying still in the clearing for more than 2 seconds.
Migratory songbirds too are mostly yellow here, like this Wilson’s Warbler with his black cap. You might be surprised, but we don’t have any red birds like the Cardinals:
The Baltimore Oriole:
The American Goldfinch:
In the tree, there’s a tiny spot of silvery blue… the Tree Swallow waiting for lunchtime:
Some can’t wait, like this hungry Robin:
or this Yellow Warbler. Whatever’s in your mouth, mosquito or fly, I’ve to say, ‘Thank you for eating!’
What colour is your Summer?
***
Ripple Effects 