At Mr Mundy's Pond
Singer
Starling with peanut
Same bird, different pose
Our neighbourhood's friendliest starling
Marvel
Partial scowlery
Peak rhodo
Eagle
Chives on the table
Eastern tiger swallowtail
Portent
Better late than never
Sleepy Cove mine
Spider on crackerberry
Red admirable
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The moon on my street
Tomato
Truck's arse at a light.
Not a bumblebee
This year's first dahlia's arse-side
Not the usual view
Guest in the sink
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Stitched fog
Peak
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First picture on neglected roll
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Little doubt
Singing outside the window
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My first spring warbler this year
At the dry dock
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Old highway
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My walking companions
The view from Arthur's Hill
Early shrooms
The other goldfinch
Turnbuckle bird
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Three-week fogs


It is often said that we, here on the island of Newfoundland and especially on its East Coast, are susceptible to long stretches at this time of year of wet foggy and cool weather. "Three-week fogs" some of us call them.
We're in one now.
In that sort of cool dark weather, the flowers do slowly get squeezed out of their plantworks, but the pollinators, like bees, need something warmer than day-in-day-out six-degree temperatures.
Today for a few minutes it got up to fourteen degrees (plus change), and the fog lifted long or high enough for the sun to cast vague shadows. The bees were out their gates.
This one was face and eyes into the pistabeds by our house.
We're in one now.
In that sort of cool dark weather, the flowers do slowly get squeezed out of their plantworks, but the pollinators, like bees, need something warmer than day-in-day-out six-degree temperatures.
Today for a few minutes it got up to fourteen degrees (plus change), and the fog lifted long or high enough for the sun to cast vague shadows. The bees were out their gates.
This one was face and eyes into the pistabeds by our house.
William Sutherland, William (Bill) Armstrong, Don Sutherland have particularly liked this photo
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