The call of the mild

Yesterday taking a break from marking I went
for a long walk in our local park. Spurred on by
my goal of 10,000 steps a day, I walked from one end
of the park to the other, looped up through the woods,
and then climbed the steep staircase up to cross the
bridge and home.

What a treat! A fine misty rain fell and the sky was
leaden. Each dark tree branch in the ravine was trimmed
with a row of raindrops. What surprised me was the colour.
I suppose I was plodding along deep in my own thoughts
when I saw a lime-ochre coating on one older tree. Then
colour seemed to pop out of the dull landscape everywhere.
The youngest saplings, right out of a Tom Thompson, were
a warm caramel colour, while up on the rise their older
sisters wore a vivid purply burgundy. In the marsh slashes of
bullrushes bent down by the winter were a tan yellow, and
seemed to have been whipped onto the surrounding snow
canvas with a palette knife.

In a large tree-sized sumach, about ten robins were happily
enjoying afternoon tea. Zoey and I got thoroughly soaked
and were righteously happy (for getting the 10,000 of course).
Spring is coming. Bring it on.
Here's a true spring day Steven captured a few years
ago in Rosedale -- a dream at this stage in the game.

Have an energetic day.