Category Archives: travel

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truck with doors

For Norm2.0’s Thursday doors.

Two weeks ago I was visiting family in Dodgeville, Wisconsin. This is an art installation in town and the multitude of doors made me think of Thursday doors! Hoods, too. What day would we choose for hoods? I am afraid that many of the hoods I think of are grim, but these hoods are fine…

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Mundane Monday #175: line up

Today’s Mundane Monday Challenge #175 is “line up”. (It’s already Monday in parts of the world!)

The parent merganser led the rested group down the rock and into the water. They swam by us in a line, bunching up when the parent realized we weren’t rocks.

Submissions to last week’s challenge water color:

KLAllendorfer: waters of many colors.

 

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the funny pine

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bark.

Oh, I don’t think tree bark is the bark the prompt is asking for, but…. well, dogs like trees too.

I have grown with this tree, meeting it first when I was 5 months old. The white pine fell or was hit by lightning, in the past, and the main trunk is in the water. Dead and ghostly, but the Lake Matinenda fishing community visits the dead tree. Not just humans, but I have also seen three otters fishing there and a snapping turtle the size of a platter. Meanwhile, a branch of the tree took over trunk duty and the tree held on.

This is the Canadian Shield, in Ontario. Imagine growing on that rock. The roots travel into the woods searching for whatever soil they can find. The root/trunk that sticks up is higher than ever this year. Three branches have matured and all stick up like a row of trunks.

From the other side:

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When I was a kid, we played sardines. Once when I was “it”, I climbed out the trunk a little and settled shielded by the branches. It took forever for my cousins to find me, my best hiding place ever. We finally started doing loon calls as hints, to get the last few people in.

I love this tree, bark, branches, survival in adverse circumstances, holding on and the lovely soft white pine needles.

 

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Matinenda doors

For Norm2.0’s Thursday doors, these are my family’s cabins in Ontario, on Lake Matinenda.

First, the log cabin. Built in the early 1940s. I wish I knew the names of the builders. My grandparents hired two men. They built a fireplace and chimney, too.

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The Little Cabin is smaller and was built somewhere between 1936 and 1938 by my grandparents, with a smaller room and porch added later.

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We sleep in tents, mostly.

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And the boat house has doors too:

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A lovely trip, with layers and layers of memory for me.

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loon

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sobriquet.

Are loons loony?

The lonesome call of the loon in breeding plumage on lakes turns out to be long distance communication: calling for one’s mate or for relief on the nest or staying in touch feeding.

The laughing call of the loon is anxious. It is done to lure predators and dangerous others away from the nest or away from the young. The young are in the water, riding on the parents’ backs when tired, by about 48 hours after hatching.

The sobriquet loon mean something very different to me than the usual meaning of loon, beloved and sober.

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