Snow Melt

The calendar holds no sway when it comes to spring in Alberta’s boreal forest—the March equinox often finds us still knee-deep in snow.

But late April, ah that’s a different matter.

The sun is higher, the days are warmer and deep in the treed shadows meltwater pools in the hollows.

Just Add Water

Earth-soaking rains

Transform parched soil.

Now in damp stillness

Caps and stems

Emerge

erupt

pop up

Dot the forest duff

Like tiny lights or parasols or stools for tired toads.

Mushroom mania.

Off Kilter

The fence line that crosses the creek is tired. It leans off kilter, like me some days.

Only barbwire keeps the weather-worn post from joining its reflection with a splash. Or perhaps it will be a slower end, a silent slipping-below-the-waves demise.

But for now it is still there. Still doing its job.

That’s all we can ask of anyone.

 

 

Water Tresses

The neighbour’s creek runs through a culvert under the road and trickles into a shallow pool. Early one morning I sit down on the dew-damp earth. Pull out my camera. And wait.

The sun stretches higher.

Shoreline grasses are mirror-perfect on the water’s surface.

Water striders begin to emerge. Tentative, at first. Then bolder. Now, moving like tiny bumper cars. Their ripples run amok, scattering the reflections.

Strands of mermaid hair.