Wish I'd Said It

Weeds are flowers too - once you get to know them.

- A. A. Milne

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

I think he's got it backwards....

It's municipal elections time here in Ontario. (Oh crap - 74% of you have nodded off already!) These are the elections that nobody bothers to vote in. Okay, that I don't bother to vote in.

They are the eyesore elections. What with councillors and mayors and trustees and alderpersons on the ballot, every swatch of green space in the town is covered with signs. Anywhere and everywhere that a car might pause, let alone come to a complete stop, is awash in garish pleas to vote for so n' so. Most signs are professional-looking but it's pretty obvious that some were hatched in someone's garage or basement.

One such is a hand-lettered, black on white beauty protected from the elements by being wrapped in a clear plastic garbage bag. On it, it says (paraphrased): "I've earned your vote. Vote ____ for mayor and let me earn your respect."

Hmmm...Shouldn't we respect him before we vote for him? I mean, in theory.

It just doesn't make a lot of sense to me. But then again, not much about politics does.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Betwixt & Between

It's that awkward time of year for me. Summer fishing, primarily for walleye, bass, muskie and pike, is over. Chinook and coho salmon are clogging up the streams near me right now.

"Clogging!?" you gasp.

Yeah, clogging. I don't like fishing for them when they're on their doomed spawning runs. Their bodies are breaking down, they're no good for the table, they aren't actively feeding and I don't like the idea of provoking them into a strike.

So I'm waiting. Waiting for the salmon run to be over. Waiting for the first couple of hard frosts that rid the trees of those colourful leaves you can see in the post below. Waiting for the grey days of November and its cold, wind-driven rains to call my lovely steelhead from Lake Ontario to my local streams.

I'll be there, sipping on a thermos of tea and stomping my feet to keep warm, waiting to greet them.

Oh, how happy we'll be to see each other! They'll dance and cartwheel across the top of the water. My heart, despite its daily dose of slow-down medication, will pound. After our wild fandango, as we rest alongside the bank, I'll admire the sleek, silver beauty with the rose blush along her side. Then, with a quick caress and a murmurred "thank you," I'll watch her slip back into the depths. And hope we'll meet again one day.

Monday, October 09, 2006

Autumn Leaves

The first song I ever learned in school (kindergarten) went like this:

Autumn leaves are now falling,
Red and yellow and brown.
Autumn leaves are now falling,
See them tumbling down.

There followed a lot of la-la-ing that won't translate well in type but if we ever meet in person, or talk on the phone, and you ask nicely, I'll sing it for you.

One of the reasons I love living where I do (southern Ontario) is the fact that we enjoy four distinct seasons here. All have their merits and drawbacks. All have identifiers that set them apart from each other.

Autumn, the season we're entering now, is noted for its lovely days, cool nights and riotous colours.

Here's a few pics to show you what I mean:

Eat your hearts out all you folks living in sunny California, balmy Brazil or awesome Australia.