Shots from a cold but sunny walk around MacCormacks Beach, Eastern Passage, NS.
Venus Flytrap Flower
Amy got this little Venus flytrap at Audrey’s Little Shop of Plants in Dartmouth and it flowered:
Turns out the flowers need really long stems so that the plant doesn’t catch and eat its own pollinators, and also flowering exhausts the plant so it’s best to cut the flower stem and use it for propagation.
Long Overdue Haircut
Procrastinated on getting a haircut for a couple years, but with hair flowing over my shoulders and down my back and as far down as my elbows and generally being a tangled mess I figured I’d probably better get the standard buzz I usually get. Still fighting the reflexive urge to tie back a ponytail days later.
Buzz and fade courtesy Tom at Chinwag’s Barber Shop. The shorn locks are now in a baggie with the Trailer Park Boys costumes and production designer Nicole, who may use it in a wig or as a prop.
Thus cementing my legacy with the show in hair forever. Or something.
Sleepy Sunny Cat
Post-Covid Activity Reduction
Health app screenshot from 5 months after covid infection shows reduction in activity — partially deliberate because exertion immediately after an infection can lead to a greater chance of developing long covid, but also just that stairs were extremely tiring to me for a couple months after I recovered.
Three Crows
Been throwing out peanuts out for the local crows; a few times some have gotten bold enough to land on the railing with me still standing there. I’ve had as many as eight in one morning, but sadly so far they have not reciprocated with shiny gifts as I’ve heard crows sometimes do.
Snow Alien
Ezra and I built a little snow alien at Baker Drive Community Park in Dartmouth. This one’s kind of a grey.
Snowy Greenway
Walking down to the tire shop along the Forest Hills Greenway — not so green in winter with all the snow, couple inches crunching underfoot.
A fork in the path. I think of “miles to go before I sleep” and “the road less traveled” and realize those are from two different Frost poems.
An idyllic brook winds through the woods. You’d barely know it was fed by runoff from a residential drainage culvert.
Bridges, bridges.
























