As an immigrant from the UK, initially the delicious, slow unfolding of the English Spring – Snowdrops in February, then Daffodils and Primroses, and Bluebells in April – was one of the few things for which I felt a nostalgic yearning. In Toronto, I blinked and missed the greening of the trees. Trilliums enchanted me, but I had to go look for them.
Living here, I’ve learned Spring’s more subtle nuances, and that the more you see, the more you see!
When the Coltsfoot turns its yellow face to the sun, I feel the excitement of beginning. In our yard I’ve pulled much of it out as a non-native invader but I admit to delighting in its radiance along the roadside.
Bloodroot
Soon after, I check the bank in our woods for Bloodroot, like many of the Spring ephemerals a dainty flower that opens to the sun and closes at night. As the term suggests, Spring ephemerals are seen only briefly as the canopy’s rapid greening blocks out the light. Many disappear completely, hiding beneath the forest floor ready to grow back next Spring. I think part of the pleasure I now feel is in knowing when and where to look, an appreciation of their transience.
Great White TrilliumRed Trillium
Already, I see Trillium leaves, though the flowers will take another week or two to appear. I love the purity of the Great White variant but covet the Red Trillium too.
Dutchman’s Breeches
Dutchman’s Breeches always make me smile, the name so apt yet somehow comic. It seems as if each year they carpet the woods along Pine Point more densely.
Now we’re really getting started! As I walk, I look for Sharp Lobed Hepatica and Virginia Spring Beauty, tiny but so pretty. There are swathes of Long Spurred Violet as well as patches of Common Blue Violet. For the first time, I also spotted a Downy Yellow Violet and a patch of Pussytoes!
Spring BeautyLong Spurred Violet
HepaticaDowny Yellow VioletPussytoesCommon Blue Violet
I’m less happy to see Siberian Squill. Whilst its blue flowers may be attractive, it is another very invasive non-native that can crowd other plants out. And, however much it reminds me of my grandmother, I’ve removed Lily of the Valley from my list of desirable plants for the same reason.
Siberian SquillLily of the Valley
As I write at the beginning of May, the Trout Lillies are adding their dainty yellow blooms to the mix, and the Large-flowered Bellwort are also beginning to open. It brings me special joy to see these abundantly intermingled with Trillium and Spring Beauty.
BellwortTrout LiliesTrilliums, Spring Beauty & Trout Lily
We are fortunate that some of these first flowers of the year occur naturally on our land. But I am gradually adding more under the trees and at the wood edge. I am excited by the first flowering of the Hepaticas I planted last year. And I am loving the combination of blue Virginia Bluebells and yellow Wood Poppy, both native though not local.
Virginia Bluebells & Wood Poppy
In this beautiful rural setting, wildflowers can be a wonderful addition to a garden. And, by definition, native plants once established tend to do well with very little attention, as well as benefiting the local ecosystem.
Yes, remaining a recluse certainly has its attractions. But WCEU 2022 , Porto, was a welcome reminder of the joy and energy that can be generated when like-minded individuals are able to spend time together. Perhaps Covid may have given us an opportunity to understand that, in the best of times, both have value. It doesn’t have to be either/or.
City – sociable AND solitary (not either/or)
Haven in the heart of the city
Porto is a vibrant, bustling city, currently on the travel hot list so teeming with tourists. It is so very different to life on the lake. Our Airbnb, Mouzinho 134, was right at the heart of the city on Rua Mouzinho da Silveira, yet it provided a surprisingly peaceful and very comfortable haven.
[For all photo galleries, click onto the first photo to scroll through the photos at full size and with titles – in the preview they are often cropped.]
An explorer’s bubble
I love retreating into a quiet bubble within the crowds to photograph a city. So this was how I spent most of my ‘alone time’ while Paul was occupied with pre-conference activities. On Wednesday I wandered north of our apartment, taking in many of the best-known sights, the beautiful tiles and vistas, alongside quirky back streets, and personal discoveries.
On the river
Just as I reached ‘home’, Paul ‘phoned – from just across the street. Synchronicity or what! I ended up meeting his XWP crowd for lunch. As they had a couple of spaces, I was invited to join their boat trip down the Douro. It was a genuine pleasure to get to know some of the people Paul works with. It was an opportunity to interact in a way that has not been the norm for too long now.
Party in a Palace
Arriving back at around 6pm, a quick change and drive through the suburbs saw us at Palácio do Freixo. Classified in 1910 as a National Monument and a unique example of Baroque architecture, this was the venue for the first of the ‘parties’, hosted by Codeable.
Though the appetizers were delicious and the band excellent (if a bit loud) we gravitated to the courtyard, not wholly comfortable with being indoors with so many people unmasked. Dinner was at least rather more spaced out.
‘Get lost’!
One of the best pieces of advice I had heard about Porto was to ‘get lost’ in the Ribeira. So the next day I mostly focused on the wonderful back streets (and steep climbs) of the oldest parts of the city. This included two mediaeval buildings likely dating from the C13th and C14th. The contrast between the throngs on the waterfront and the solitude of these atmospheric, narrow, cobbled alleys was astonishing.
Another palace and a cathedral
I finished my day at the Cathedral and Bishop’s Palace. It reminded me that austerity rather than opulence is what soothes my soul. It was the stone passages of the Palace and the Cathedral cloisters that resonated for me.
Conference time
The following two days were all about the conference. No more time for sightseeing! That said, the Jardins do Palácio de Cristal that surround the Super Bock Arena are delightful, with beautiful views of the city.
We did manage to make Friday night, before Paul’s talk first thing on Saturday, a quiet meal just for the two of us in a restaurant noted for its homestyle Portuguese specialties, Adega Sao Nicolau.
The crowds, the socializing, just being in a city felt a bit bizarre after the seclusions of Covid. It was fun but a little scary and also somewhat overwhelming at times. I’m not used to that many people! It’s interesting to observe the way I oscillated between solitary and sociable, tapping into both my introvert and extrovert tendencies and taking pleasure in both (not either/or!).
The Aveiro Lagoon – bustling city and empty shores (not either/or!)
Sixties classic on a sandbar . . .
I consciously chose the Pousada da Ria as somewhere we could catch our breath after what I knew would be a very hectic time in Porto. It met the need perfectly. Located on a sandbar peninsular a short ferry ride from Aveiro, it is just slightly off the beaten track. Something of a sixties classic, the building sits on pillars above the gentle lapping of the Aveiro Lagoon. In contrast, a short distance away the Atlantic throws all its force at the sandbar’s western shores.
Beaches that go on for ever . . .
The beaches here are definitely my kind of beaches. There were no concerns about social distancing. Just miles and miles of golden sand and just the odd figure on the horizon.
At the beginning of June when we were there, much work was going into redistributing the sand that had formed drifts during winter storms. It was very strange to see beach bars still partially buried and to watch the dumper trucks changing the profile of the beach in preparation for summer visitors.
We got the impression that this is an area in which Portuguese city dwellers have their holiday homes rather than one which focuses on attracting foreign visitors. I’m guessing that July and August would be much busier.
Sao Jacinto’s dunes
A glorious 8km hike through the dunes at the Sao Jacinto Dunes Nature Reserve offered more insights. It was fascinating to discover that the peninsula on which we were staying did not exist 600 years ago. It is a sandbar created by those pounding Atlantic waves and winter storms that is part of an ongoing process of transformation. Here, in the reserve, this process is supported and protected by human intervention. It was interesting to think back to the ‘reshaping’ of the beaches and realise that this is more about humans holding back nature to preserve something they value, in this case long sandy beaches attractive to tourists!
There was a diversity of habitats in the Reserve, with real variety of plants. Again, it was so interesting to see how the trees and other plant life gradually transform dune sand into something more like ‘soil’ and how this then supports new and different life.
Stalking lizards is a habit from my earliest Mediterranean holidays. I didn’t notice, though, till I went through my photos that the one pictured is missing part of its tail!
Our hike was was so solitary that, when we did encounter one other couple, Paul quipped to me, ‘Did you give them permission to come on our walk?’
Art Nouveau and canals – Aveiro
A short ferry ride across the mouth of the lagoon made for a pleasant trip into Aveiro itself. A small but growing city, Aveiro is famous for its canals navigated by colorful boats (barcos moliceiros), traditionally used to harvest seaweed. I had read that many of these barges had somewhat risqué artwork on their prows. I get the feeling, though, that contemporary sensibilities are seeing this tradition fade.
Aveiro is also noted for its many Art Nouveau frontages. We found interesting juxtapositions of old and new, especially in tiles. It was delightful both to see the city from the canals and just to wander, only somewhat guided by a map of the Art Nouveau buildings.
From fort perched above pounding Atlantic waves to Royal summer playground
The Fortaleza
Our three nights at the Fortaleza do Guincho were a gift to ourselves courtesy of all the Avion points we’d managed to collect during Covid. As well as the romance of staying at a fort looking out over one of the best beaches in Portugal, there was the promise of a meal at the Michelin starred restaurant – it was wonderful! My post on authentic food details that adventure.
The fort is largely ‘re-constituted’ but very atmospheric. I’ve never before stayed in a room with a loggia. And, of course, its position is stunning, if wind-blown.
Again, during our stay, we rejected either/or and revelled in the contrasting experiences of bustling seaside town and relaxing beach.
Royal Cascais
We chose on our first full day to a meander along the coast road into Cascais, an attractive coastal town that was originally the summer destination for Lisbon’s royalty and nobility. It was very busy, especially as we were there on Portugal Day, but we were glad to see it.
Paul particularly enjoys strolling marinas and ogling the boats these days. He also rather liked The Queen’s Beach (Praia da Rainha), where we almost swam in the sea (I got above waist level, Paul just to his knees).
Although much simpler than the extravaganza of the previous night, we had a particularly delicious meal at the back street Taberna Clandestina.
Guincho Beach
Our final day was the perfect do-nothing-day’s end to our time away. We spent all day on Guincho Beach below the Fortaleza where we were staying. Paul even got to play volleyball, always a favourite beach activity for him.
The water is too cold and the waves too wild for swimming here, but sea and sun worked their relaxing magic.
Reflecting on our time away, I have a heightened awareness of the abundance of experience available when one chooses to interact with the world from a variety of perspectives and in a variety of ways.
I loved my city time, both from within my ‘photographer bubble’ and when soaking up the hustle and bustle, the colour, and the social interactions. I also savoured the solitude of our hike and the empty beaches.
Similarly, I enjoyed embracing both the extrovert and the introvert in myself and the sense that I don’t have to be one or the other. One of the joys of getting older seems to me to be the ability to own and relish the apparently contradictory in ourselves and to be increasingly open to all life’s riches.
I’ve always been fascinated by the stories of lives otherwise unseen that winter reveals. So it was a real treat, on Saturday March 5, to join Shirley French at her property on Cranberry Lake as she led a session for DCLA (Dog & Cranberry Lakes Association) members on Tracks in the Snow.
I think someone must have had what my grandfather used to call ‘a hotline to the clerk of the weather’! Certainly, we were blessed with an almost perfect day – snow fresh enough for distinct tracks, cold but not too cold, dry, and reasonably bright.
A group of a dozen or so intrepid trackers, including two delightful young girls bursting with enthusiasm and curiosity, gathered on Shirley’s land for an initial briefing on what we might find. Helpful illustrations of the tracks we were likely to see supplemented what we had already gleaned from a video of winter visitors that Shirley made available before the event.
A story of a fox, a weasel, and a snake (and other animals)
Unsurprisingly, the first tracks we spotted were those of the ubiquitous white-tailed deer, as well as squirrel and rabbit.
However, there was real excitement when we spotted some intriguing tracks leading up over a rock. Of course, we had to investigate! Skirting carefully up the slope behind the rock we discovered the partially eaten remains of a snake, likely a water snake. Who dragged it there? At the time, we didn’t arrive at a clear answer. But later Shirley went back and measured the footprints on the rock. The narrative that emerged was that it was a fox who left the snake’s remains. The fox likely stole the prey from a weasel, an animal that could access a snake hibernaculum, perhaps in the side of a small island just offshore across the ice.
The ongoing story, as captured by video footage in the days that followed, included visits to the snake by a leery crow and a nibbling racoon; fox and porcupine also passed by.
It’s worth noting that this rock was already of interest as Shirley had previously identified a mink den beneath it, sharing some lovely footage of their comings and goings in her preliminary video.
Further explorations
We continued our explorations, edging out towards the lake and clambering up rocky paths, all the while noting the evidence of abundant life written in the snow. The distinctive tracks of porcupine often include the sweep of their dragging tail alongside their clawed toes – four at the front, five at the back. Turkey tracks are like direction markers, though they point back in the direction they’ve come from rather than forward to where they are going! We saw both of these.
It was truly exhilarating to forge a path through the snow to one of the highest points above Cranberry lake. What a view!
Many thanks to Shirley for her leadership, the sharing of her knowledge and the invitation to walk her land and to all the participants, especially the youngest ones, who helped make this a captivating and magical experience.
Ever since we moved to Cranberry Lake five years ago, I have been promising myself that I will catalogue, as far as possible, the trees on our 2.25 acres of land. For a British immigrant of twelve years, I’m surprisingly good at recognizing birds, animals and wildflowers despite an English country childhood in a very different ecological environment. But I don’t feel I know my Ontario trees quite so well and I am amazed by the diversity I see around us. I am embracing 2021 as the year of the trees!
i-naturalist – a useful tool
Back in December 2020 Dog & Cranberry Lakes Association offered a helpful webinar on how to use i-naturalist. This prompted me to create a project (The House at Turtle Pond · iNaturalist) where I am gathering together all our observations of the incredible variety of life around us. My experience has been that this has further sharpened my ‘seeing’ and boosted my knowledge. Be warned, though, that contributing to i-naturalist can be addictive! I felt that this was a tool that might provide me with way of bringing together what I discover about our trees as well as assisting me in identifying them.
As the deep cold of winter began to wane, I thought I’d start by looking at some of our evergreens. In all honesty, I’m finding it a lot harder than I imagined to arrive at definitive identifications. Who knew that there are so many different varieties of Pine, Spruce, Fir, and Cedar?! And the same is true of the deciduous trees. It’s a little overwhelming!
One of the issues I have found is that, to have confidence in your classification of a tree, it is helpful to be able to bring together observations from the different stages of the annual cycle. Unfortunately, i-naturalist doesn’t facilitate this. So, I have created a spreadsheet where I can record flower, leaf, seed, bark, and overall shape of tree as well as seasonal shifts. I also have started a simple list on this blog under Rural Life – Trees and Shrubs at the House at Turtle Pond.
Although i-naturalist can point me in the right direction or occasionally confirm something I’m already reasonably sure about, in many cases I am going to have to turn to books and additional online resources. What I really need, once we have a little more freedom to interact, is a local expert. Are there any volunteers out there, I wonder?
Seeing anew
If my ability to catalogue our trees is, as yet, still somewhat limited, my awareness has shifted significantly.
I have become conscious that, in an area where water is all around us – constantly changing, taking our breath away on a daily basis – it is easy to relegate the incredible beauty of the woods to a supporting role. Yet looking at our photos it struck me that, if the lake is the backdrop to our lives, the trees provide the framing.
Never, until this year’s slow sidle into Spring, have I realized quite how beautiful is the flowering of the trees! It’s easy to be uplifted by the obvious blossoming of Cherry trees, Magnolia or Serviceberry. But, perhaps because so much of the action takes place far above our heads, I think many of us miss the delicate beauty of the blooms of Maple and Basswood, Oak and Elm, Willow and Birch; tiny explosions of colour, curled catkins, soft Pussy-Willow puffs!
We are barely into the growing months of the year and already there is a deepening intimacy in my relationship with trees that will only increase with the shifting seasons. I can’t wait to make the connections between flower, fruit and leaf, to witness the greening with newly heightened senses, then later the florid fullness of Fall.
I’m reminded that, when we choose to focus in a specific direction, there is invariably a richness to be discovered that, once found, will never wholly be lost.
Stewardship
As we moved to this beautiful place, I was startled by the unexpected strength of a sense not of ownership but of stewardship of the land; of a deep love and great desire to do right by it and by all the beings with which we share it. This sense of responsibility underpins my life here. There are many ways in which we try to put this into action, including supplementary planting of native species, particularly those supportive to pollinators and wildlife.
As part of this, we have tried to make sure we plant at least a few trees and shrubs each year. After less than stellar attempts amid last year’s uncertainties, we have big plans for 2021. We will be adding to an existing grove of White Pine with seedlings courtesy of the DCLA 2021 Spring Tree Sale. (There will be further availability in the Fall – keep an eye open for mailings to get your order in!)
Having struggled for the last few years to find a relatively local source for a wide range of native plants, I was like a kid in a candy shop when I discoveredNatural Themes Native Plant Nursery in Frankford. My order, to be picked up in the latter part of May, includes eight native species of trees and shrubs. We have more Serviceberry in our woods than I had realized, but all our other purchases are supplementary to what is already here.
I am writing this on Earth Day 2021. At a time when many of us have moments when we feel as if it is difficult to breathe, how apt it seems to focus on appreciating the trees that are often described as Earth’s lungs.
A friend recently asked what the motivation is to plant trees knowing you will never see them reach maturity. There are so many good, practical ecological reasons. More than that, though, I think that every tree you plant is a statement of hope, of belief in a future in which you will no longer play a part and an act of love for the planet and future generations.
Our first year of living in rural Ontario has been truly special. I have had a sense of homecoming, of re-connecting more fully with nature. And, for me, that connection is the source of much wonder and joy.
So I put together a book, A year in the life of The House at Turtle Pond. A kind of journal, it seeks to capture our response to the newness of living through the turning of this first year, looking out over Cranberry Lake on the Rideau system in Southern Ontario, Canada.
It speaks to a deep connection with nature, the rhythm of the seasons and the interconnectedness of internal and external realities.
I wrote it first and foremost so as not to lose sight of the newness as the years pass and familiarity potentially dulls our awareness. But it has been lovely to find that at least a few people find in it something to feed the soul. It makes it even more worthwhile!
The book
Below is a link to A year in the life of The House at Turtle Pond as it appears on the Blurb website. Here you can glance through a preview. If you happen to be interested in having a copy and live locally, please feel free to contact me direct. Blurb often offers discounts to the creator of a book, which makes it significantly more affordable.
By the way, it was our predecessors who named our wetland between the house and road Turtle Pond. And our neighbour noted that this was therefore The House at Turtle Pond, like The House at Pooh Corner. This seemed apt, especially when I came across this:
And by and by Christopher Robin came to the end of things, and he was silent, and he sat there, looking out over the world, just wishing it wouldn’t stop.
