First Day of Summer at Humber River

In honour of my new camera, my blog has been transformed into a photo blog. All these photos were taken at the Humber River in Toronto, ON. Since the consensus is that a picture are worth a thousand words, and I have significantly more than one photo up, I'll keep the actual words on the brief side. Hope you enjoy!

Do not try to bend the spoon. There is no spoon. It's an elephant, right? Right?

Pretty.








It's so easy to forget that this still exists so nearby sometimes.






Flowers doing as flowers do.

Why did I take pictures of ducks, you ask? I thought it was funny how the two of them started bathing at the exact same time. Why did I find it post-worthy? Patience. The answer lies in the next photo.





So after taking the last photo, I look over at all the other ducks and realize they are all cleaning themselves, too! Weird, huh? What?! You're not nearly as enthralled by this as I clearly am? But the birds...at the same.... fine. Next photo.










A duck, mid-flight...









I promise I was on the right side of the fence. (Above it doesn't count right?)











Okay. I had to include this one because it was so very creepy. Looks like an albino vampire goose-bat in a tree-coffin, waiting for night, vhen it vill emerge to drink your blood...

A tree, like life....a tangle of entwined branches...and therein lies its beauty.

Sometimes you just have to keep going. Even if you feel like something's just a little off-kilter.












When you're between a rock and a place of watery death, cling to the rock and drink of the water. (I'm getting all kinds of wisdom from nature today.)








The small Blue Heron that I set out to find and- much to my surprise-actually found was.....not so blue. Still, beautiful and regal, the Heron stood upon its stone throne as even the surrounding murky water shone under the sun's fond gaze.

Not far away from the Heron (which I, fun fact, first saw with my grandfather when I was a child, and thought it was a pelican)....was a seagull who had more Heron-y visions of life.

Admittedly, I went a little trigger happy, but with such a graceful creature held in my camera's eye, can you blame me?

Oh, angelic bird of my youth and memories....why are you white and not blue?!

It found a great fishing spot, where I think it had more luck than the human families nearby.

The murky water, minus the Heron-within lies danger and mystery.







Taking a dip.




Breaking point. Almost.










*Quasi-evil laugh* You thought the comments were always for the photo above it, didn't you?I'm changing it up for the next two photos with this random comment. Are we trees or are we dancers?








Slow dancing...








Ballet....Or possibly hip-hop?

Tai chi is very popular with the tree-people these days.


It was so serene and picturesque, nature itself seemed to pose. Almost all photos were taken on auto since I haven't quite figured out all the features but with any luck, my skills and photos will only improve. Hope you enjoyed! Comments always welcome!

The Rain in Toronto Falls Mainly on Luminato

It's raining. I mention this because each of those cute little droplets have conspired to make my plans go down the drain. Thanks a lot, rain. Like plants are more important that free outdoor movies. Like we need them to survive or something. Sheesh.

As the cars swish by, I sit here writing this, and thinking about the rain and, more importantly, about the elusive Luminato. The first event I wanted to go to was an Evening with Neil Gaiman, which sounded somewhere far beyond awesome. Like comparatively, awesome was just a small side street that the coolness of the road of the event passed by early on. Anyway, it was sold out, which is good--don't get me wrong--just not for me.

Yesterday there was another event that sounded very cool: a reading with authors commissioned to write about "Gothic Toronto". When my friend and I arrived, we learned the line up had begun long, long before. I bought a "chap book", which was kind of sort of proof of being there. I added it to the endless pile of books I have yet to read. Might take some time to count the pile, much less make a dent in reading the books in it, but one of these days...

So, after being turned away from the reading, we went off in search of a large red ball. Apparently it's touring the city, being squashed into the most unlikely of locations. One of the volunteers pointed us in the right direction. I figured, even if it had moved, surely we'd find it. I mean, it's a giant red ball, definitely no relation to a needle. Where could it hide, really? I had this image of the ball rolling through the streets of Toronto with people following it like it was the Pied Piper. We looked and looked, but suffice to say, it was no where to be found. Clearly, the Red Ball had disappeared into some mystical rabbit hole, and would re-emerge in Australia.

Wandering somewhat aimlessly, we found ourselves at Yonge & Dundas square where they had swing dancing music that seemed more slow and jazzy than swing. The photography there was cool. It was a theme, see...photographers obsessed with music, musicians obsessed with photography. For some reason, the image of the snake eating its tail comes to mind. I'd want to yank the tail out of its mouth, and tell it that it's better off biting the hand that feeds it then its own tail....but back to the non-completely circular story.

Eventually, swearing we'd return the next day, blanket and goodies in hand, for Tales of the Uncanny and live accompaniment, we departed. We synchronized our watches, or we would have if either of us were wearing them. The point is we planned. We figured we'd be there around 8:00, a full hour and a half earlier then the show was set to begin. Nothing could possibly stop us.

Yes. The reading may have been read without us, the audience may have lacked us for the evening with Neil Gaiman, the Red Ball may have rolled away and disappeared into another continent or dimension, but there was no way we'd miss the movies.

And then in rained. Brave the cruel rain, you say? Sit with precariously balanced umbrellas and damp blankets of doom? I think not. We de-synchronized our non-existent watches. My friend ate our picnic (in the same vein as Homer eating his pet lobster, I'd imagine) and I...well, I took a nap. And wrote this. I suppose there's still hope of going to an event or two....Luminato's not over yet. And after all, as an eventually wise lady named after a certain shade of red once said, tomorrow is another day.

Unless it rains.