
I’m watching . . . something. Stella’s watching . . . something.

I’m watching . . . something. Stella’s watching . . . something.

Sometimes Kendal has difficulty posing for a portrait.

Achilles greeted me at the gate when I arrived home from work. It’s good to be greeted by his sweet furry face and gentle personality. His muzzle is grayer now, eight years after adopting him out of the shelter. I’m still quietly pleased and very deeply gratified that fate, chance, karma, luck, The Maker, what have you, bring us together. He’s been such a pleasure.

Faye and I came home Sunday afternoon to 20-plus degree temperatures so we made the time to enjoy a Mill Street beer on the deck. We resolved to spend at least a little time outside every month of the year and make a portrait and this one was easy. Stella’s ears and forehead sneaked into the frame. Good thing we did this – we had about 4cm of snow last night and the current temperature is 1, if that.

Fields throughout southwest Ontario are almost ready for spring planting. Winter wheat is just beginning to green up.

Wednesday morning brought a light frost, light enough that I scraped mere shavings off of the windshield. Their appearance was so cool that I had to capture them; in doing so I captured myself capturing them.

The stratosphere was so stable this morning that a contrail didn’t quickly evaporate or become torn apart. It lingered for several minutes, artistically bending and twisting. Another jet streaked past, its arrow-straight contrail emphasizing the effect.


This Red-winged Blackbird turned this way and that on the barbed wire fence, loudly proclaiming that this part of the world was his, fiercely defended against all comers – except an attractive female.