Justfolk's photos

The internet gods haven't been getting many cat pictures from me for the past year. But today this stranger appeared at our back door and looked up at the door knob as if to say, "Lemme in, luh." You know: like "Lemme see yer Christmas tree, missus!" Good townie cat. We didn't let her in. I suspect she belongs to someone on the next street down. The crows noticed her and spent five minutes squawking down on her. She was checking out the smells of smaller vertebrates than herself. Eventually she went on her way.

We've been neighbours of Joan and Jim for twenty years, but I knew Jim for thirty years before that. Jim failed me in a university course in 1972! That's a long story. And we've been friends ever since. I often see them outside tidying their yard, shovelling snow, or breaking up ice, as they were doing today as I came by. And they were glad to pose for a picture.

About ten minutes' walk downhill from our house is a river along which I walked today. When I saw this kingfisher, I started stalking him. When I'd get close, he'd fly fifty or sixty metres up or down river, landing on branches and then on this wire.

I think this may be the same orange-crowned warbler we've seen every few weeks since late summer or early autumn. And here: he's still around in mid-January. According to birder friends, the past few winters have seen at least a few of these guys weather out all the winter months here. You wouldn't expect any warblers here in the winter, but there are at least four or five species being reported almost every day from somewhere in the region. This bird landed on our outdoor Christmas tree this afternoon, catching a few sidelong sunny rays. He stayed about fifteen seconds and then disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

I am in the city most nights. There, stray lights diminish the view of the sky. And from our back-door, as in this picture, I can see the sky mostly only through the trees. Luckily in winter they have no leaves. But the trees still have branches and finding a good spot to stand to see the stars I want to see is a little like a one-sided fencing dance. Back and forth, up and down, etc., until they all show at once. Behind the branches, in the sorta middle of the picture is Orion's belt, three stars in a short line. One of Orion's shoulders is marked by Betelgeuse in the upper left, a sorta-reddish star. The other of his shoulders is marked by Bellatrix in the centre top, a blueish sort of star. And one of his heels is marked by Rigel in the bottom right of the photo. Not the best picture of Orion's parts I could have made, but the best I could do without driving some distance. And I like the winter branches.

We haven't seen many winter birds this year. And the population of the few residents seems to be dropping. There are two snowbirds and two chickadees who seem to be resident in our yard right now. This is one of the snowbirds (or "juncos" if you don't like the traditional but ambiguous name). He was just sitting on the rail outside our kitchen door, relaxing, I imagined.

I am coming out of the liquor store with a box of beer under my arm on a Sunday afternoon, and I find this truck parked in front. He's a Gangster for God. Or rather a Ganster. I'm not up-to-date enough on slang or religious fads to know whether that is a meaningful difference or a spelling mistake.

Our neighbouring cat likes to watch the birds by our houses almost as much as I do.

I am hoping no one in our neigbourhood is *poisoning* rats -- and so I hope that this crow got his rattine lunch by natural red-in-tooth-and-claw battle.

This is the male Northern Flicker that hangs out with the female whose picture I posted yesterday.

In the dingey wet snow this morning, a Northern flicker was checking out our usually-full suet feeder, and finding nothing.

Today I made a big pot of lentil stew. It's not quite vegetarian since I used about a litre of turkey stock, but it almost is. :) We ate a meal of it and I have almost seven litres left cooling before it goes into the freezer. I am not sure I have that much room in the freezer. We'll have to eat two or three meals of it in the nearer future.

Apparently "nacreous cloud" is some kind of technical term. I have no idea if this picture of what's outside my door right now fits that technical bill, but it sure looks nacreous to me.

We don't see mummers much on our street. But I was getting out of the car this afternoon when I saw these two people rigging up alongside their own car, readying to go mummering in a house across and up the street a ways. I don't know those neighbours and I am pretty sure I also don't know these mummers, both of whom were probably in their eighties and looking a little frail as they crossed the street. Before they crossed I asked to take their picture. But they were already moving and I did not take the time to set the camera to a more suitable ISO. Thus a moving picture, Oh well. Maybe there'll be more. :)

It's a long time since I studied biology -- more than half a century. And I understand the mosses and liverworts, taught to me as plants, are "plants" no longer. Like poor Pluto not being a planet anymore. Well, I still see them as plants. We've had a couple of weeks of mostly sub-freezing weather, but the mosses seem to hold up well in almost any weather. This was this afternoon while ice was not melting, but running brooks were still oozing down through the lucky mosses. ————- EDIT, next morning: I have been corrected by a short look through the Internet's many bryophyte discussions. Mosses are indeed still “plants.” They are seedless and non-vascular, but plants nonetheless.

Despite its reputation of being a soil-less barren rock, the island on which I live has a lot of trees. And the capital city is particularly well-treed. I cannot get much clear view of the sky from anywhere near our house. Yesterday as supper was cooking, I went out the front door to the street to see the moon rising in the northeast sky. It was a day before the actual fullness (today), but it nonetheless looked full to the eye. I liked the colour in the sky, here heavily pixelated from the high ISO I used, and the patterns of wires and telephone poles.

This is the main sign for a small shop in our neighbourhood. I like the sign partly because of the mix of serif styles.

It's a dull day. Here are the boys hanging about. Nipping down for a peanut. Now and again. Accusing one another of small improprieties. For a laugh. Not a hard life. Mostly.