Rainy Day Trip
Rain. Of course, more rain. It was foretold, after all. Those weather guys know whereof they speak. In gently apologetic tones, anxious to avoid inciting rancour in the hearts of Canadians so eager to enjoy recreational opportunities the week-end celebrating Canada Day. Not their fault after all; we civilized people cannot resort to blaming the messenger. We knew what to expect. Nonetheless, awakening to an heavily overcast day somehow squeaks the anticipation out of the day.
Breakfast was enjoyed regardless of the drizzle outside. Long, leisurely, caloric-rich and much appreciated. And after clean-up, we thought we'd give it a go, anyway. Just light rain - all of us need the exercise - might as well go for our usual jaunt in the ravine. With the assurance that the full leafy canopy would keep us reasonably dry. Even so, a cool temperature balanced the high humidity and we wore light rain jackets. And off we went.
Muck and more muck. But good to get out, that's the truth. Our little dogs could use the exercise and the opportunity to snuffle about, deposit their leavings, because we were in for a relatively long car drive soon afterward. And when we finally left, it was under a low cloud cover and a continuation of the low-grade rain; light enough so as not to compromise the drive, just requiring wipers.
The usual ebb and flow of traffic. Until we reach that certain spot some several miles on where traffic is generally brought to a slow-down generating hiccoughing fits and starts. The usual summertime roadwork in progress. Seems, frustratingly frequently, as though the municipality hands out contracts to the most inept, unhurried, under-staffed, but low-cost contractors.
A misty fog clings to the landscape, muting the prevailing colours that a bit of wet generally accentuates. It hangs low over the denatured city. Despite the rain - or perhaps because of it - there appears to be more traffic than usual on the highway. The occasional cowboy speeds past, not signalling lane changes, ripping up the kilometres, leaving a fine spray in his careless wake.
Hard to believe the sheer numbers of parked cars alongside the Ikea store on the west side of the city. That haven for Generation Xrs, who cannot seem to get enough of those "practical" products with their absurd nomenclature. Never again will we grace that place with our presence only to be routed through the most infuriatingly circuitous maze, ensuring customers wishing to access a sales desk be exposed to as many product aisles as possible.
We pass the Palladium, observe its alternate use, as a parking lot for thousands of recreational vehicles, and vacation trailers of all descriptions. Sitting there forlornly, as though pleading for notice of vacation-aspiring individuals heeding the yearly call to the open road to take advantage of their availability. No longer quite as much in demand given they represent a market newly dissolved in the face of rising energy prices.
Then we pass outlying fields in rural pasturage, all yet encompassed within the purview of the enlarged city. There are cattle out to pasture, moving lazily through the wet haze, grazing. Growing green crops are beginning their annual cycle, although this represents the second hay growth of the season. A lot of sileage, and corn for local markets and animal feed.
Flocks of Canada geese are busy making free of their opportunities, flapping in puddles in the fields, and partaking of the seeded offerings here and there. Ducks rise out of fields, on their way to local streams, perhaps even the Ottawa River. The roadsides are colourful with clover flowering in pastels of pink, white and mauve.
Nature's gardens appear briefly as we flash by on the highway. Daisies, hawkweed, milkweed, Viper's bugloss. There seems a brief lifting of the overhanging darkness, but it doesn't last. Our quietened windshield wipers are soon deployed again. Over in the near distance there hangs a truly sooty cloud system, draped over the landscape.
The rural ditches are replete with all manner of tall, attractive, ornamental grasses, rushes, cattails. They welcome the downpour.
Breakfast was enjoyed regardless of the drizzle outside. Long, leisurely, caloric-rich and much appreciated. And after clean-up, we thought we'd give it a go, anyway. Just light rain - all of us need the exercise - might as well go for our usual jaunt in the ravine. With the assurance that the full leafy canopy would keep us reasonably dry. Even so, a cool temperature balanced the high humidity and we wore light rain jackets. And off we went.
Muck and more muck. But good to get out, that's the truth. Our little dogs could use the exercise and the opportunity to snuffle about, deposit their leavings, because we were in for a relatively long car drive soon afterward. And when we finally left, it was under a low cloud cover and a continuation of the low-grade rain; light enough so as not to compromise the drive, just requiring wipers.
The usual ebb and flow of traffic. Until we reach that certain spot some several miles on where traffic is generally brought to a slow-down generating hiccoughing fits and starts. The usual summertime roadwork in progress. Seems, frustratingly frequently, as though the municipality hands out contracts to the most inept, unhurried, under-staffed, but low-cost contractors.
A misty fog clings to the landscape, muting the prevailing colours that a bit of wet generally accentuates. It hangs low over the denatured city. Despite the rain - or perhaps because of it - there appears to be more traffic than usual on the highway. The occasional cowboy speeds past, not signalling lane changes, ripping up the kilometres, leaving a fine spray in his careless wake.
Hard to believe the sheer numbers of parked cars alongside the Ikea store on the west side of the city. That haven for Generation Xrs, who cannot seem to get enough of those "practical" products with their absurd nomenclature. Never again will we grace that place with our presence only to be routed through the most infuriatingly circuitous maze, ensuring customers wishing to access a sales desk be exposed to as many product aisles as possible.
We pass the Palladium, observe its alternate use, as a parking lot for thousands of recreational vehicles, and vacation trailers of all descriptions. Sitting there forlornly, as though pleading for notice of vacation-aspiring individuals heeding the yearly call to the open road to take advantage of their availability. No longer quite as much in demand given they represent a market newly dissolved in the face of rising energy prices.
Then we pass outlying fields in rural pasturage, all yet encompassed within the purview of the enlarged city. There are cattle out to pasture, moving lazily through the wet haze, grazing. Growing green crops are beginning their annual cycle, although this represents the second hay growth of the season. A lot of sileage, and corn for local markets and animal feed.
Flocks of Canada geese are busy making free of their opportunities, flapping in puddles in the fields, and partaking of the seeded offerings here and there. Ducks rise out of fields, on their way to local streams, perhaps even the Ottawa River. The roadsides are colourful with clover flowering in pastels of pink, white and mauve.
Nature's gardens appear briefly as we flash by on the highway. Daisies, hawkweed, milkweed, Viper's bugloss. There seems a brief lifting of the overhanging darkness, but it doesn't last. Our quietened windshield wipers are soon deployed again. Over in the near distance there hangs a truly sooty cloud system, draped over the landscape.
The rural ditches are replete with all manner of tall, attractive, ornamental grasses, rushes, cattails. They welcome the downpour.
Labels: Environment, Nature, Peregrinations
posted by Pieface @ 1:18 PM
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