Close Encounters

I was eating my cherry Danish innocently when a roving band of birds attacked!

Himalayan View

From Poon Hill looking west toward the Annapurnas.

Floor Bstract

The counter of transcend coffee. Soy latte. Nut and pumpkin tones.

Last Day of Winter

Tomorrow at 5:20pm is officially the end of winter. All the snow will melt instantly. Birds will materialize. Flowers will poke up from the damp earth. The temperature will continue to raise overnight until the morning when the sun, rising with a benevolent grin on it's buttery-yellow surface casts warm rays on a plethora of newly born animals. 
Okay, we all know that's a load of bunk. This raises the question; why on earth do they have "the first day of spring" anyway?! Depending where you are in the world, this title means absolutely nothing or almost absolutely nothing. Take Kathmandu for instance. You can expect temperatures of nearly 40C all week, and thick haze settling over the city. You know that sounds just like spring! Now how about Edmonton, AB? Negative temperatures all week. Still no sign of the robins but they should start arriving in 24 hours or so. 
So what is the purpose of the last day of winter/first day of spring? To make us northerners feel more optimistic? So the Wiccans know when to perform fertility ceremonies? Any ideas? 

Fort Mac

Today I went for a drive in the boreal forest. I saw dead trees, snow, a rabbit, a trappers cabin, trees. I saw where a bear had climbed a tree and left long scars in parallel groups of four all the way up the trunk. It was very interesting indeed.

My journeys continue.

I am driving west. I just had to take a photo of this mountain on the coquihalla.

Flammable Orange Juice and Other Curiosities

I don't know who figured it out, but the spray from oranges is in fact flammable. Perhaps it was a minutely unstable individual who was curious to which would and would not ignite. Perhaps a studious scientist in need of a party trick. Nevertheless lighting orange peel spray is a great way to feed the inner pyromaniac.
I discovered some grandiloquently fustian words whilst reading "The Secret of the Sands" by Erskine Childers that are anything but trite. His favorite is phlegmatic which means "as sluggish as phlegm". A superb winter word! (How were the roads? Oh, phlegmatic to the point of being lugubrious) I also enjoy the word platitude; which can accurately describe the first twenty-three seconds of any meeting of people (Hello, how are you? Cut the platitudes Wilson, we both know you care as much for my welfare as you do last weeks newspaper.) So next time life is a little inane, your skull numbed to a moribund torpor, read a book.
P.S. I'm not attempting to light my cabinets on fire albeit appearing as such.
P.P.S The book was very good. Written in 1903 it's a sailing spying story.