It's the birds...

I thought they were Cedar Waxwings, but a higher authority decreed "Bohemian....they are Bohemian Waxwings....". So, I concur. And after looking them up for some prolonged period, I also found out that both males and females have identical plumage making identification of the sexes "impossible". Perhaps the expert eye could catch it? Regardless, some interesting evolutionary quirks with that scenario.

I must now, then, confess my adoration - breaching upon obsessive admiration - of these little species. Well, all waxwings, to be precise. It is their soft plumage, their tender cacophonous trills and of course their calm colours that make them so wonderful. Ecologically - not going there today.

They announced their winter habitat to us at home early in the season by defecating all over our house and front windows. I would assume this would make most upset, but their winter feed - blood red berries from the myriad trees around our area - makes this defecation quite pretty. A somewhat luminous purple-violet-red set of splatters now adorns our abode. Quite pretty, actually.

But the real reason for me taking pictures today was more their action. They congregate upon the tree tops in seemingly three defined groups - these congregational trees are not berry producing (in fact, they are dead pines). One group will leave, flock to another tree - wait less than a minute eating berries - and fly back. A second group will flock upon the first groups return - wait less than a minute eating berries - and fly back. This continues as the concerted songs maintain throughout the tree tops. It is credibly a sharing of a resource in groups of, what appears to me, something that is not in short supply. These berry trees are everywhere, yet they - in turn - share the feed of one tree at a time. Afterwards the whole flock moves on to another perch, and starts this habit all over again. Curious, that.

Above: Birds.
Below: Birds.

Trials of a Winter Bicyclist - going to work

Here are some videos of my regular morning shtick. The thermometer was yelling quite convincingly that at -27 one should be prepared for frigid bones! At least I was bundled up, whereas Crystal had to stand on the porch with only her bare feet and grass skirt on as she filmed my departure.

Warmer days to come....

Above: Me leaving the back door and porch, wading through the snow.

Below: Me leaving the driveway and heading out. Descriptive, I know.

...did you catch my good-bye wave as I rounded the corner?!?

Interestingly enough, after weeks of contemplation as to when the streets would actually be cleared, as I left for work the city workers were just starting to clear these side streets. So, I was able to bike home to a snowy, but not icy - in the form of compacted snow - roads. Either way, I don't care. My tires ROCK and I'm beating cars on the road. Eat my snow, carophiles!

A break...

The snow kicked my ass.

I had to take two steps of precaution today that inculcate in me an awareness that nature is in control.
1) Falling - much less a coherent decision as a realization during the event, but nonetheless an event. The landing is much more serene than those of the summer - less speed and more fluff on the ground to land on.

2) Walking - the decision to get down from the bike and walk the rest of the way home, albeit only a block, rendered a subtle glow of admiration of the snow in my frigid and ice encrusted eyes. It made me lose today. I fight it every day, with love, but fighting. I win every day. Today I lost. I chose to walk.

So, the biking in the snow all winter long goal is a sculpture which I chip at each day, some (most) provocatively amazing. Today, not. Safe, fine, happy, but acutely aware that I am running uphill with a few weights and not a single city worker helping to clear any section of sidewalk for me or the other winter bikers. I should enjoy a video of myself swindling my way along some of these side streets!

Although I fell prey to gravity and shin-high snow drifts, ending my ride face down in a giggling mockery of the event, and although I had to choose to walk a small section, I am starting each day with a smile and a nestled grin and ending the same days with a continuation of that pose.

I like to think that the fellow travellers with me each morning are getting used to my appearance and are aware of my presence...but who knows. I do know, however, that the city emplyees are not yet aware that either there is snow on the ground or that there are actual streets to plow. I think they are staying indoors for the winter, as a true civic employee should want to do. This is Prince George, and I am ok with it.