THE DUCKS ARE BACK!!

 March 31st, 2023

As I write it's snowing. Winter, it would seem is stubbornly hanging on. All the same the ducks and geese are valiantly struggling to get here, and set up housekeeping and begin the process of bringing a new generation into the world.

Used to be, at about this time of the year I'd rise early, and make the trek out to a near by marsh named Tiny Marsh, not because it was tiny, but due to the fact that it was located in the Township of Tiny. Now, aged, I tend to wait a bit for warmer weather, and rather than hike the marsh I walk slowly to the edge, and scan the marsh with my binoculars looking for signs of life out on the open waters. Not to feel sorry for myself, ageing is normal should you live long enough, and besides I have lots of memories. 

However, my memories are of better times when the ducks on the marsh were far more plentiful. Now, urban development, and costs of maintaining wetlands increasing, wetlands here in southern Ontario, are disappearing, as are the ducks. We're draining wetlands for urban development. Tens of thousands private dwellings are needed to house a burgeoning population. Wildlife habitat is being sacrificed for the almighty dollar.

Sad, how we've treated nature. I feel certain that one day we'll rue the day that we paved over paradise.

WINTER - SPRING MEMORIES.

 There was a time when in winter, and in the early spring, when we’d get in the car and travel to Killarney Provincial Park, Algonquin Provincial Park, or Awenda Provincial Park. We’d strap on our skiis and head out into the bush, explore frozen lakes, and on occasion travel out on the ice of nearby Georgian Bay. Of course, now, we no longer ski, but we still have the memories of the solitude, the sparkle of the sun on the snow and ice, and the sound of the wind as it swept through the trees. 

Memories, important as you become aged. So, if I might say, make lots of memories when you’re young, they’re prized when your old, and there’s no escaping it, one day you will become old.

Some days I pass the time leafing through old sketchbooks. Sketchbooks the kind that fit in your pocket are great to bring along when out skiing, or hiking. They don’t take up a lot of room, and together with a brush or pencil and a spit box of watercolours are all that is needed to capture a memory. 

Watercolour Spit Paintbox

Now, a note about sketching, don't think masterpiece, think memories. A scribble, a wash laid over a quick pencil sketch, all that's necessary to create a memory. And, remember, it's your memory.....all that's important. What someone else thinks about it, none of their business. It's a personal diary of sort, of a day, time well spent, experiencing your life.

4.25" X 6" pocket sketchbook

Here's a few of my winter - spring memories...

Lake Of Two Rivers, Algonquin - View From The Picnic Area in April

River - Track & Tower Trail  - Algonquin Spring

In the early spring with the snow melt this small creek turns into a raging river. I sat on a rock outcropping with my feet in the waters edge attempting to capture the moment.

A title isn't needed her as the sketchbook notations for this sketch and the one above say it all. fantastic day skiing this trail. Midway there's a log cabin with a blazing woodstove. 

Spring -- Tea Lake, Algonquin Pk.   Watercolour Sketch

Love this sketch. Sometimes a small sketch turns out to be more than a sketch. I recall sitting at the side of the road trying to avoid being hit by oncoming traffic, and sketching quickly while my fingers froze. 

Giant's Tomb - View from Awenda First Beach.  Watercolour Sketch

This sketch was made standing near to the ice that had piled up on the shore. We'd just skied down from the parking lot to the Bay. The weather was cold and overcast, and it began to snow as we arrived at the Bay. I made the sketch with frozen fingers, using a pencil and added watercolour when we returned home.

Snowshoer On Smoke Lake,  Winter Algonquin Pk.   Watercolour Sketch

One winter we did a day trip up to Algonquin Pk. We stopped at the Smoke Lake pull off and in looking out I observed a snowshoer out on the lake. No doubt a cottager on his, or her, way to check out the cottage. Pretty daring actually, as the lake is large and it's not always covered with thick ice.

There are many more memories. As I come across some of the sketches I'll continue to add some, however for now, enjoy, and if you should get a chance get out and make your own memories.

TREADING WATER: PART THREE

Pic Island - Lake Superior Landscape                          Pencil Drawing  2023

 I finished off the drawing using the paper stomp to smudge the sky, together with an eraser to lift some of the smudging and give a bit of shape and body to the clouds. The stomp was used to soften the lines of the shrubbery in the foreground. I added a few grasses here and there, then called it quits. It's important at some stage in a drawing or painting when you begin to get a bit fidgety, and start looking around to add something here and there, that you simply accept that whatever your working on is finished. To carry on just creates confusion, and can go beyond what you were looking to achieve, and end up a mess. With this drawing I didn't expect a masterpiece, it was simply a bit of an exercise for an ageing artist to see if I could remember how to make a sketch, or drawing. It seems that I still have a bit of an ability. Now, to stay alive until spring provides an opportunity to get up to Algonquin to make a few on site sketches.....

Older Graphic Representation Of Pic Island, Lake Superior.        Graphite Drawing

In between working on this sketch/drawing I read a bit about artificial intelligence, and just how it's going to replace many who work in the arts. Frankly, I don't believe that it will replace the artist, but I do believe that A.I. will become a collaborative tool, much like many of the existing graphic programs have become. Some may see A.I. as a threat. I personally am excited, while at the same time disappointed, as by the time that A.I. is widely used as a studio assistant, I will have had my moment.

Watercolour Field Sketch  Lake Near Kenora Ontario. August 20, 2003

We were on our way to Quetico, or somewhere  thereabouts, when we ran into road construction, and were forced to stop while machinery maneuvered about. I looked over at the side of the highway and saw a lake off in the distance, so we pulled over to the side of the road, and I made use of the time stopped to make a small watercolour.  I've often wished that we had the time to stop here for awhile to explore the lake. Sometimes, however, we run out of time. Perhaps, next time around, .....or maybe you can go up and explore on my behalf.

The Old Man’s Diary

July 2022,

summer long awaited,

now, 

seemingly in a rush

to join with spring and winter, and

drift away 

to time that has passed.

Time,

timeless, but

as we age,

approach our event horizon,

value diminished,

like a freight train out of control

it speeds into darkness

with nothing in sight.

Wishes,

promises,

threats,

fall on deaf ears,

as life as we knew it

turns on its heels, and

we are left,

eyes wide shut,

to enter the darkness

alone.

But,

with moments left to spend,

comfort takes hold

knowing that we’ve done our best,

enjoyed the trip, 

we settle in, and

enjoy the ride

to its very end.

Time,

always forward,

never back.

*****

TREADING WATER: PART TWO

 

Apologies, I said that I'd come back in a day, or two, and you could see the drawing progress. Again, apologies, this thing about growing old, or perhaps, I should say, getting old, is that some days are good, then some days just don't turn out as you would wish. Anyway, here I am. 

There's been a bit of progress. I've spent a bit of time working on the foreground and using the paper stomp created a bit more sky. I feel that I'm getting away from the reality of the scene, but the essence is still there. My memory isn't what it used to be, however, we'll keep working at the drawing over the next few days, so that when you next return it will be finished.

In the meantime here's a bit more of my other pursuit, my poetry. Should you appreciate some of my writing you may enjoy more by accessing this link, but before you do note that I receive no gratuity for my books. 

https://www.blurb.ca/b/10232219-still-waters

At my age it's too much of a hassle to chase after a few dollars. Art of all sorts is a hard sell, and the sale of books doesn't amount to much profit, unless for example you're someone like Stephen King. I leave the books with the publisher, Blurb Publishing, to sell them. Should they sell a few then, good for them. They can keep any profit. I'm satisfied to just get my images and thoughts out there. And, incidentally my poetry/prose books can be previewed in their entirety, on line for free, and if you choose, a PDF copy only costs approx.  $5.00 U.S.

Before I forget, here's a bit of a poem....

Global Warming?

It was warm, and then it wasn’t.

It snowed, and then it didn’t.

The snow went away, came back, 

then went away, …..again.  Global Warming 

some were heard to say, but who’s to know 

as records only show a century ,or so, and records 

don’t reveal times when things, long past, 

went horribly wrong, when volcanos 

with no warning erupted 

spewing ash high up in the sky, 

causing change that continues to our time. Perhaps, 

so called global warming, will once again 

be interrupted by a blast of ash from volcanos 

now dormant, but primed to once again 

alter time. Still, even if the planet continues 

to issue warnings about global warming, 

there exists the chance that without warning, 

global warming will itself, change the weather back, 

and snow and cold will cause some to say, 

Global Cooling the reason for today.

TREADING WATER: PART ONE

 It's early March where I'm sitting. In the past few days the temperature has risen above 0C, and coupled with the warmth from the sun our snow accumulation has been reduced to not more than a foot out in the bush. The sap is running, and some of the willows have buds. Spring is on the way.

In the meantime, I'm treading water making thumbnail sketches, and anxiously awaiting an opportunity to get outside, and make a sketch, or two. I'm becoming very long in the tooth, so I'm a bit more than anxious to get out and sketch, as with each passing year the opportunities get less, and less....

To pass the time, having run out of words to make a poem, or two, I picked up a piece of drawing paper, actually print making paper and have begun to make a bit of a small drawing of Pic Island up in Lake Superior. Here's Part One in the development of the drawing....

Pic Island- Lake Superior.  Pencil drawing on beige paper.  2023

I begin by roughing out an outline, then with a paper stomp  go over some of the lines and with some residue left on the stomp do a bit of work on the sky, and work on the island, while creating a few trees on the mainland. I'm working back and forth, getting lost in an overall design. In time things start to take shape....the thing is, despite the fact that there are moments when I feel that I'm losing it, I continue on. Sometimes there's a lot to learn when things don't work out as you expected. The trick is not to give up, keep on, keep on....

Come back tomorrow, or the next day, and I'll try to do a bit more, and have Part Two ready for you to see the development...In the meantime, here's a bit of a springtime poem....

THE MARSH 

Winds blow steadily from out of the north, and 

whips darkening clouds

across the once blue ,

sunlit,

sky.

The marsh,

once green and lush,

with waters filled with life, 

is now frozen,

snow covered, and seemingly,

devoid,....

of all life.

The snow swept shore
is ringed by dead cattails, that clatter,
and chatter,
defying...
the wind.

A coyote,
chased by the wind,
sniffs the air, and
finding nothing there,
seeks shelter in the Dogwoods, and cedars, that
cling to the shore.

Dried grasses swirl and sway

in the wind, 

and create patterns on new fallen snow.

Ravens that once circled high in the sky
seek shelter
in nearby pines.

The wind blows relentless with no end in sight, but 

with the night

thereʼs quiet, and

the stars, 

slowly,

come into sight.

Snow and cold comes, 

and stays,

until,

one day,

the sun lengthens its stay.

Out on the ice there are patches of water.

The wind,

once threatening,

is now beckoning, and 

geese soon appear.

Life banished by the cold, 

slowly creeps back,

here,

and there.

Spring, finally, itʼs here.