The promised snow has arrived, sort of. It's melting off the street as quickly as it falls, but it's building up on the grass and fence tops. As I write, the clouds are moving off to the east, and the sun has almost broken through. Supposedly we're going to have nice weather for another week, but you never know anymore.
It's not just an el nino anymore. Now it's a super el nino, that apparently is going to affect our weather here, about 700 Km from the Pacific Ocean. It sounds like we are going to have a warmer and drier winter than usual, with the possibility of a drought next year. That isn't going to be good. I can't find the link now, but once read that the last 100 years have been a wet period by historical standards, and we're moving back to long term averages. Maybe in a decade or two or three the Bow river will be essentially dry, and the last person will let the bison out of their paddocks. The ecosystem will revert to the bison and the native prairie grasses.
This time of year it's traditional for bloggers to talk about what they're thankful for, and I almost don't even know where to begin. By the standards of nearly everyone who has ever lived, my wife and I live in a close approximation of heaven. Endless clean water by opening a tap. A house that stays warm and dry with little effort from us. Everything that uses electricity. A car to get around in. An astonishing variety of food at the local supermarket or farmers market that we can take away after tapping a card on a little box. We can listen to nearly any music ever recorded. Watch nearly any movie or TV show, which itself would be a miracle to anyone living more than 100 years ago. We can fly to the other side of the world in a half day. We can have a video call with nearly anyone, no matter where they are.
More personally, I'm getting older by the year, and things are getting creakier, but I'm still in good health. It's common to read the news of someone younger than me dying of something or other. It seems like there is no shortage of things to die from. I sometimes wonder how doctors keep up with the advances in medical knowledge. We're told that early detection is key, but it's really hard to know if the thing that shows up one day is just another thing about getting old, or if it's the start of some terrible disease, and quick action is necessary.
Sometimes I think about civilization as a human life. People are born, they live some amount of time, and they die. Some have long healthy lives, some die young from violent ends. Some live with sickness a long time. We've seen historical example of empires and governments and countries coming to an end. Usually the people involved at the time don't know it, or are more involved with fleeing for their lives. However, in my lifetime, I've seen the death throes of the British Empire, the death of the Soviet Union only to be reborn as Russia which itself is now losing an existential war with Ukraine. The American Empire as been dying for a while, and Trump seems intent on finishing off. China was the centre of human civilization for millennia, was humiliated by the British in the 19th century, and is now ascendant again. Maybe I should be taking Mandarin lessons.
These were taken Sunday morning. The roses are hardy, and they'll hang in there a while longer. How hardy? I totally believe these two rose buds were awaiting better weather, and would burst forth, the little optimists.
Here is a good place to start their story. Maybe this winter will get more more photos of roses enduring winter.
But I would have expected the dahlia to turn up it's toes and keel over.
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Of the Day
Driftwood (NZ)
Film Another view of the dragon spine trees, last mentioned a few days ago
here.
Linda
Newfoundland A fellow photographer looking for interesting photos on a rocky beach.
New Brunswick
Why ever didn't I publish this, and maybe I did
An August 2023 moonrise.
90 days, or so ago
Flower
Landscape
Serendipity
