I have two blogs–this one that I now rarely post on and an art blog that I post on more frequently. Being in nature in and out of the city is a large part of what sustains me in life and allows me to create. So I’ve decided to merge both blogs by creating a nature photography section in my art blog. I’m not removing Of Humans and Nature, just not adding to it.
If you’d like to see additional nature photos of mine, do go to Arts of May. And many thanks to those of you who’ve dropped by Of Humans and Nature and who have followed me. All the best to you.
Here’s a post after a long hiatus. I went to the Brickworks on this sunny day in Toronto. There, the light on the snow, the dried grasses, the trees were a boost to my spirit.
A glorious sight this morning: the sun on orange gold trees.
The gold and orange leaves are vivid in the ravines and streets of Toronto right now. They led me to these photos I took in 2012 at Arrowhead Provincial Park near Huntsville, Ontario. It’s a small park, but that didn’t dim its beauty when we were there a few Octobers ago.
We had a surprising and humorous encounter with a cormorant on a recent visit to the Bruce Peninsula in Ontario. Shortly after pulling out of a parking spot in the town of Lion’s Head, we heard a loud sound coming from the back of the car. We couldn’t figure out what this was and thought that perhaps something was rolling around in the trunk. However, when the sound returned 2 or 3 more times, I turned around in the passenger seat to see if the trunk was unlatched. There, looking back at me from the rear of the car, was a cormorant. We quickly pulled over to the side of the street and got out, hoping the bird wasn’t injured in some way. S/he seemed fine–no wings held at odd angles or other obvious problems that might explain why s/he had landed on the car. So this remains a mystery to us. After looking at us for a few seconds, the cormorant hopped onto the side of the road. A man heading the other way stopped to tell us he’d been amazed to see the bird land on our car. Thankfully, Lion’s Head is a small place where other vehicles had a chance to slow down or stop to make sure they didn’t hit the bird.
Hi people. I’m still alive after my recent break from posting. The old computer suddenly ceased functioning with an electrical short and a puff of the scary scent of electrical burning filling the rooms. Since then I’ve been learning a new system. These dwarf irises are from a Toronto garden in May. Since then great blossoming has taken place. We’ve had daffodils, tulips, hyacinths, redbud trees, magnolias, crabapples and cherry blossoms. These have all gone and now we’re awash with the fading, but still romantic scent of lilacs, lilies of the valley and peonies.
Last weekend I went to the exhibition of students’ art work at OCAD, The Ontario College of Art and Design, in Toronto. I was impressed by the number of students whose work addressed their concerns about the health of the natural world.
One fibre artist, Cassidy Tam, exhibited a large work she’d created along with her idea for a children’s camp called Camp Be a Bee. I didn’t get a chance to meet Cassidy, but loved her art work and camp idea.
On her flyer, she writes:
Have you ever get scared by a furry Bumblebee? Do you know why they like to hang around in the backyard? Get ready for a two-week adventure to explore and learn about pollination and local plants that live in Toronto. From art exploration to scientific experiment, you will interact with other camp members to build a beautiful meadow just like a hard working little bee!
I was drawn to her ideas because of my concern for the health of bees. I’m also heartened when I see people working to bridge the gap of disconnection between humans and the natural world. Helping city children appreciate nature is an important part of changing our attitudes toward the larger world that sustains our lives.
Good luck, Cassidy, with your camp and your art work. Here’s Cassidy’s website. Her card, below, shows her email.
I went to the Brickworks last Sunday. The air was awash with the calls of red-wing blackbirds and soaring and diving swallows. I came upon mallards and cormorants in the ponds, plus a mournful and patient dog awaiting the return of his human companions.