Those Dreaded Words: "The Water Pressure is Going Down."

     Last night just at bedtime, my wife spoke those dreaded words, “It looks like our water pressure is going down.”   Those words are something I ever want to hear.   If I am lucky, losing water pressure means I need to change the water filter under the house, but it also can mean that we need to hike up to Sunbeam Falls to change the filter on our waterline intake.  

    I called Nick our neighbor, to see if they were also losing pressure on the waterline, and he said that theirs was also falling.  That confirmed that the problem was with the whole waterline, and we would have to hike up to the falls to change the intake filter.   The falls is always a dangerous place (it cost me a finger) and because it was night, we arranged to wait until this morning’s light to do the work.

    The recent temperatures have been unusually mild +7°C (45°F) for a January in the Interior of BC.   A lot of the snow in the yard has melted, and I was expecting that the ice that usually forms over Sunbeam Falls had also disappeared, but as you can see in the photo above it hadn’t.

    Nick and I weren’t really prepared for breaking through a lot of 6 inch (15cm) thick ice, but that is what we had to do, just to get to the big culvert that collects our water.  The creek was still flowing briskly into our waterline culvert under all of the ice.

    We took turns poking at the ice with a big iron railroad pry bar.  (photo below)

    The ice was hard and didn’t break away easily, but eventually we broke away enough for us to get to our culvert, and pull up the watergate to drain the culvert.  We were tied to a tree for safety, because it is always treacherous working on the steep falls, even in the summer, and trying to stand on the irregular slippery ice that covered everything, made the job even more dangerous.  

    Once we had the water drained from the culvert, Nick climbed into it and removed our intake filter.  The filter’s surface was covered with pine needles and other small detritus, which prevented water from going into our waterline.  

    We replaced the dirty intake filter with a clean one, then lowered the watergate back into place, and watched the flowing water from the falls once again fill our culvert with clear, cold water.  We were not able to remove all of the heavy big chunks of ice that we broke off from the culvert, so they remained floating around the top of the water that filled the culvert.   Once the culvert was again filled with  water, we hiked back down to the truck.  

    Despite all of that early morning exertion, it was very gratifying when I got back home and turned on the tap, and see water coming out of it again.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Our Arrival in Amsterdam, 1996

    We arrived at Schiphol, the famous Amsterdam airport at 7:15 PM.  It was gray and raining.  We took at nice train to Amsterdam’s Central Station, then a subway.  We walked around in the rain, trying to find Nancy’s house, and after several inquiries, we found her tall, skinny, iconically-shaped, brick Dutch house.  After cheerful greetings, with my sister and her family, Nancy gave us a tour through her heritage-designated house which was built in 1640.  

    Her living room was comfortably and tastefully adorned, and like the rest of her house, very narrow, maybe 16 feet from wall to wall, but deep, with the kitchen at the far end.  A steep, squeaking, wooden staircase in the living room, led to bedrooms on the several upper floors above.   Nancy, who is an Internationally-known knitter “the Queen of Brioche”  https://knitwithfriends.pt/en/blog/speaker/nancymarchant/  used a couple of the smaller upper rooms, for storage of the skeins and skeins of accumulated colorful yarns, and other knitting supplies.

        Above, is a painting that I did of Nancy’s house.  It is the dark-colored house on the right.  If you look carefully, you can see Homer, Nancy’s cat, peeking out of the corner of the window beside the door.

You can view my other paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Latest Painting: "Splits The Sky"

     I finished my 77th painting yesterday.  The image shows some striking morning light created by a break in the clouds, illuminating the Cariboo Mountains in the Robson Valley.  I started the painting which consists of 216 two inch squares, at the beginning of August last year, and it took me 120 hours to complete.

    The painting is 24 inches by 36 inches and was done using acrylics on canvas.

You can view my other paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Sun Sinking Down The Dore River Valley

     I have blogged before about how I am constantly looking at the natural world for indications of the changing of the seasons.   A couple of days ago I observed another of those markers I look for.  It was the position of the sun as it dips behind the Cariboo Mountains.

    During the winter, the sun is always low on the horizon, and sets far to the left of what you can see in the photo above.   Slowly as the year unwinds, the sun sets further and further to the right of the photo, and by summer, it no longer sets behind the mountains, but at the far end of the Robson Valley.  From our house, one of the things I look for, is when the sun begins to set west of the Dore River Valley, and the other day, when I took this photo, the sun was setting in the cleft of the Dore River Valley. 

    For me, once it begins moving west of the Dore, it is a positive indication that our slow march to spring has begun and the Universe is unfolding the way it should.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A Flight to Amsterdam: Delay, Delay, Delay

     Looking back, it seems like things rarely went smoothly whenever had to take a flight anywhere.  Missed connections, racing from one end of an airport to another, delayed or cancelled flights, lost baggage; something always seemed to happen.  Below is an experience my wife and I had, when we were trying to fly from Calgary to Amsterdam in 1996:

            We drove to Calgary, where  we checked in at the Travel Lodge half a day before our night flight.  That is where we would be staying upon our return from Europe a few weeks later.  We arranged to have our car kept there in our absence.  We caught the motel’s 4:30 PM shuttle to the airport, then wandered around killing time for hours, until we could go to the ticket counter at 9:00 PM.  Eventually we got through the line-up at 10:15, for our 11:00 flight, only to be surprised by an announcement that our flight would be delayed until 2:00 AM.  

    I tried to take a quick nap on a bench in the boarding area, but without success.  An announcement came over the PA system, telling all passengers for the flight to Amsterdam to go back upstairs.  There we were told that our flight had been cancelled until 2:00 in the afternoon the next day, because they had to replace one of the plane’s engines.  We were told the airline would pay for overnight rooms at the Travel Lodge (where we had left our car).

    We, along with the 70 other passengers on the flight, had to go downstairs and wait for the shuttle to take us to the motel.  It was a ridiculous situation, since the mini-bus shuttle could only carry five people at a time, and there were 70 of us.  After an hour’s wait, we decided to save waiting around and just to take a taxi to the motel.  We invited a Dutch couple, who were also waiting for the shuttle, to join us in the cab.  We finally got to the motel at 1:30 AM.

    Next day, we woke up at 9:00, ate our free (airline paid) breakfast, then upon returning to our room, we found a message from the airline that our Amsterdam flight had once again been delayed, this time, until midnight.  Fortunately, the airline would again pick up the tab for another day at the motel, and pay for a $10 lunch, and a $15 dinner.

    I had already phoned my sister in Amsterdam to say we would be leaving at 2:00 PM, so I had to make another long distant call to update her on our new departure time.

    We spent the day wandering around a mall.  Sadly, the stores didn’t open until noon, because it was a holiday.  We went to the movie and saw, “Phenomenon” which we enjoyed, then later, when we were having our dinner, one of the Dutch couples said they had heard that our flight had been again pushed back, this time until 2:00AM.  We tried to confirm the news, but the airline wasn’t picking up their phone.

Just before midnight we arrived back at the Calgary Airport, and waited.  Another, but fortunately short, delay of 15 minutes was announced.  By this time had lost a lot of trust in “Air Club” where we had gotten our flight, and we weren’t the only ones fed up with the lack of communication they had with their passengers.

Finally, we were able to board our plane, and our flight departed Calgary at 3:00 AM.  Things got better once we boarded the plane.  We had very good seats for the flight; just the two of us together in the back of a very huge 747.  It took a long 8 hours to get to Amsterdam.  We tried, but were unsuccessful  in getting any sleep on the long overnight flight, but the meals and the service were good.

You can view my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A 1991 Cold Snap, Conclusion

  This story started on the Jan. 24th blog.  You should start there.

         I was in a foul mood.  I took the battery into the warmth of our house, then called Teresa at work to see if they could get anyone there to come and pick me up.  Teresa told me they would send someone out in a truck to pick me up right away.

    I quickly loaded the wood stove up for the day, and walked back up the driveway to the road to wait.  I waited, and then waited some more.  I waited and waited, standing with my face toward the sun.

    In the extreme still cold, sound carries easily, and I could hear the sounds of tires on the highway which is a mile away.  It sounded as if the traffic was just behind our house.  I could also hear the sound of trees cracking from the frost.  I kept on waiting.

    I watched some chickadees in an alder tree beside our driveway.  I started pacing around and did some toe lifts in an attempt to keep my feet warm.  Finally I heard a truck coming my way on the road in the direction of town.  Finally, I thought.  The first sight of the truck did not give me the thrill I was seeking.  I wasn’t a Forestry truck.

    After a long 40 minutes of standing in the cold, the truck finally came.  Teresa had told Johnny the warehouse man to go out and pick Dave up.  Even though Johnny had already had a conversation with Dave S. that morning, he got in a truck and mistakenly drove 32 kilometers to Dunster (where Dave S. lived) to pick him up.  

            By the time Johnny had realized he was to pick me up, not Dave S, I was getting pretty cold, but I forgot my misery quickly, once I was able to climb into the warm Forestry pickup and finally be on my way to work.

    I was able to catch a ride home after work and upon arriving home, I put the warm battery back into the car.  The block heater had been on all day, and with yet another prayer, I turned the ignition and amazingly, the car started. 

    I didn’t experience any other trouble starting the car for the remaining two weeks of the arctic weather.  I did constantly check the circuit breakers though.  I had unplugged the space heater under the house and just let the cold water in the bathroom run constantly at a slow rate to prevent it from freezing up. 

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A 1991 Cold Snap, Part 2

             This story is a continuation from yesterday, read that blog first.

    I decided I would just stay home from work for a couple of hours to give the car’s block heater time to warm up the engine.  During that time I fed the goats.  My wife, who was also wondering how she would get to work, called a couple of neighbors to bum a ride.  One of the neighbors was having a similar problem getting their car started, but my wife did eventually arrange a ride with a neighbor.

    At 9:00 I went out to try to start the car again.  I learned that and hour and a half was not sufficient time for a block heater to warm up an engine at -33°F.  I tried again at 9:45 and got a similar result.  I was sure that by 10:00 I would be successful and almost was.  I turned the key and the engine almost caught, so I tried it again, again, it almost caught, again, again, and again.

    “Dammit, come on, come on.” I said to myself gritting my teeth, but it was too late, the car battery had just used up all of the power it had.  I was snookered.

            By this time my wife had caught her ride and was on her way to school and I thought I should probably use the same tactic, so I walked up to the road hoping to flag down a ride to work.  The sun was starting to shine over the trees and as I stood beside the road I could actually feel some warmth radiating from the sun, but after about 10 minutes without a single vehicle coming by, I gave up on a ride and went back down the driveway, thinking I should give the car one more try.  Instead, I decided to take the battery out of the car and put it into the house so it could warm it up, thinking maybe that might give it a bit of power.

    I opened the hood of the car, and with a wrench in my gloved hand, I started to loosen the bolts holding the battery cables.  As I worked, I happened to look up to see our friend Linda go by in her car, heading for town.  “Damn,” I  thought, “I could have caught a ride with her,”  but that ship had already sailed.  

    Two minutes later as I was lifting the battery from the car, I heard the sound of another car going by—my neighbor, who had evidently had more luck getting his car started than I had.  I had forgotten that he was still at home.

           The ordeal continues on tomorrow’s blog.

Take look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

Remembering A Frigid, 1991 Cold Snap. Part 1

         In honor of the frigid Arctic temperatures that are now dipping down through most of Canada and the US, I thought I would relate my “adventures” dealing with a cold snap we experienced in the Robson Valley about this time in January of 1991.  Since living through so many winters in the Robson Valley and having to deal with so many problems the frigid temperature cause, I automatically  feel uneasy and get nervous upon hearing a forecast of a cold spell.   Here is the story:

    We had just suffered through two weeks of continuous cold temperatures ranging between -20F (-29C) and -33F (-36C).  It was pretty brutal.  It was so cold that someone in Prince George had reported that they saw a lawyer walking down the sidewalk with his hands in his own pockets.

    The cold snap started out badly for me.  After I had gotten home on that first day when it started to go down to -20F, I noticed that the cold water tap in the bathroom was running rather sluggishly and was on the verge of freezing up.  (The bathroom water was a weak link in our water system and was always the first thing to freeze up.)  I figured I had better do something to prevent it, so I crawled down into our dark,  gloomy, cobweb-draped, crawlspace under the house and plugged in an electric space heater, so that warm air could blow over the waterline leading to the tap.

    I couldn’t think of anything else to do; I had the block heater in the car plugged in, I had armful of wood brought in and ready for the wood stove, the electric baseboard heaters in the house were turned up and humming, so I went to bed dreading the thought of how cold it would be the next morning, but confident that everything would be okay.  

    I was wrong.

    The next morning when I forced myself out of bed to check the thermometer, I was depressed to discover it was -33F outside.  I got dressed as quickly as possible, then opened up the front of the wood stove to get that burning hotter.  I fixed a lunch for work, then decided that before I went out to the barn to feed the goats, I should check the car.  I thought I had better start the car to allow it to warm up before heading off to work.

    I got in the car, turned the key and heard one of the most pitiful sounds that can befall a commuter on a cold morning:  ERRRrrrr.r..r…r,  then silence.

    The engine wouldn’t turn over.  The block heater had been plugged in to keep the engine warm, so the only problem I could think of was that for some reason, electricity wasn’t getting to the block heater.

    I went back inside the house and checked the electrical service box and discovered that the breaker leading to the car had been thrown.  I then realized that when I had plugged in the space heater under the house the night before, it had overloaded the electrical circuit which was on the same circuit as the car and it had thrown the circuit breaker.

            The story continues tomorrow.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A Cold Weather Story

             In 1980, we had just purchased our house in McBride, my temporary employment at the Forest Service had stopped, and I needed to find a job.  I was able to get employed at Far West Cedar, a company that split cedar logs and manufactured cedar fence posts and rails, for rail fencing.  I was fortunate to get one of the safer jobs in the mill:  I ran the machine that drilled the holes that held the rails in the fence posts.  

            The winters I worked at Far West were brutal, because the large metal quonset hut building where we worked was unheated, and when it got cold, it made for a long miserable day.  Here is one cold day’s experience I had while working at the Far West Cedar Mill:

    Toward the end of January of 1981, McBride experienced blast of Arctic air.  One morning when I woke and got dressed to go to work, our thermometer read -30° F.  Nevertheless, the car started and I drove to work and when I arrived, the air was frigid and still. Surprisingly, the thermometer that hung outside the Far West office showed that the temperature was -48°F.  It seemed strange that thermometers showed that much difference.

    It felt like a march of doom as I plodded through the snow toward the mill door, knowing that the unheated building would not offer any more warmth than the frigid outside air, but I rationalized that maybe manhandling  the heavy fence posts to and from the drilling machine would exercise my muscles and keep me warm.  

            Once inside, I shuffled over to my station and turned on the drill.  I lifted the first post into position on the drilling platform, pulled back on the lever to lower the rack of drills onto the fence post, but as soon as the drills began to penetrate the wood, one of the drill bits snapped off.  

    That put an end to the drilling.  I marched over to the office and reported the break to Bob the foreman, and he told me go back and run the rail trimmer.  When I pressed the button that turned on the rail-trimming machine it too, immediately broke.  I trudged back over to the office and reported that too, to Bob, who immediately pressed his lips together as he shook  his head.  I wasn’t disappointed to hear him tell everyone that it was just too cold to work, and that everyone should go home.

    That evening our thermometer dipped to -35°F but the Department of Highways thermometer was reading -50° F.  

Our house is located on the mountain slope, so is higher in elevation than McBride, which is sits on the valley bottom.  Cold air is heavier and it sinks and lies in lower land, so maybe that creates the difference in temperatures.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Temperature Inversion

     For the last handful of days the Robson Valley has been living beneath a temperature inversion.  The high pressure, cold air above had created a dome which trapped moist and warmer air below it.  This left us with several days of thick overcast cloud which was fairly depressing.  The thick clouds prevented us from seeing any of the spectacular auroras that had been happened across North America.

    One of the interesting results of the inversion was that it caused trees to be covered and turn white with frost.  This made what scenery we could see, picturesque.  Here are a couple of photos.

    I was happy this morning to discover that the dome of the inversion had disappeared overnight.  Today we can again see sunshine and patches of blue in the sky.

Feel free to look at my paintings.  You can see them at: davidmarchant2.ca

Snug As A Bug

     Pets spend all of their time monitoring their owners.  They always figure out what is going to happen by their careful observations.  Kona always knows way ahead of time, when my wife is headed to town.  She loves riding along, so as soon as Kona is aware that the trip is going to happen, she starts making her desires known, by bothering my wife.

    That happened yesterday, and Kona was very impatient to be put in the car, so she could be sure she was going along.  I put Kona in the car early, to lessen her anxiety, and because it was cold outside, as she sat in the back seat, I draped my wife’s silver down coat around her, before  I went back into the house to help my wife get her boots on.

    When my wife was finally ready to go, she asked me if I would back the car out of the carport for her.  When I got into the car, I noticed that by then, Kona was laying down and snoozing in the back seat, completely covered with the down coat, with only her nose sticking out.  I couldn’t help but take a photo.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

No Aurora, But We Did Get A Sunset

     There was a massive electrical disturbance on the surface of the sun the other day, and so I saw several news articles predicting the possibility of auroras visible across North America last night.  I was expectant at getting the information and I got up four times over night and looked out the window to see if anything was happening, but could see only dark skies.  

    This morning when my clock radio went off, the talk was all about the amazing photos the radio station had received, showing the brilliantly colored auroras that had occurred across BC.     This morning I received a text message from my old friend Gary who lives in North Carolina.  He wrote to say he saw the pink haze of an aurora down in that southern state last night. 

    Well, as usual during most astronomical events, the skies over the our part of the Robson Valley were covered with an overcast of low cloud which blocked out any exciting event happening in the sky.

    We did have a nice looking sunset yesterday and I guess I will just have to be happy to see that.  

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Greggo, One of Robson Valley's Interesting Characters

     The Robson Valley has a wealth of unique characters.  I once thought that we should create a bingo-like card with photos of local characters on it, that we could hand out to tourists, and they could check off the ones that they had run into.  

    Greggo is a trapper who lives in a log cabin 10 miles down a logging road in the middle of nowhere.  Their cabin is “Off the grid” so it is heated entirely by wood.  The logging road that gets him to his cabin, is not plowed in the winter, so Greggo has to rely on a snowmobile trip to get to and from his cabin.

    Greggo is a walking hurricane.  Whenever I run into him, I feel like I have to brace myself.  He is very friendly, constantly patting you on the shoulder, but he speaks very loudly and not alway coherently, and I often find it difficult to understand what he is talking about.

    Here is what I understood from an encounter with Greggo that I had years ago:

            We were walking our dog down Jervis Road one winter’s day, and a car came by.  It was Greggo  and when he saw it was us walking, the car stopped, so he could talk. 

         He said that the day before, they had come to town.  When they were done, his son carried his Greggo’s partner back to their cabin on the snowmobile.  Greggo stayed at the start of the road waiting for for the snowmobile to return to pick him up, to take him back to the cabin.  

        He waited and waited, but the snowmobile never returned.  After a couple of hours, “Greggo.” began to worry that something happened.  

        Eventually his mate came snowshoeing back to Greggo.  It seemed like the snowmobile had a serious breakdown, which left them without transportation into their cabin and not knowing what to do about it, because they really depend on the snowmobile. 

         They have a few small farm animals at their cabin, and they couldn’t really leave the cabin unattended for long.  When I met Greggo on the road, they were driving into McBride seeking a solution to their problem.  I assume the only way they can solve it is to find someone who will loan them a snowmobile for a while.

    We wished them good luck, they got back into the car and drove away.  With all the excitement over, we resumed our walk down the quiet lonely country road.

    

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

How Strange: Kids Playing Outside

     This is a photo I took ten years ago.  Even back then I found it unusual to see some kids outside, entertaining themselves playing hockey.  I remember even further back in 1976, when I was teaching in the two room elementary school how strange it felt during recess, upon discovering that the kids didn’t just go out to run around and play, they just stood outside.  I had to organize some sort of activity, before they would do something beside standing around during their recess.

    Things are many times worse today.  Not only do the kids do things outside on their own, but so many are so messed up emotionally that they just totally retreat to live their lives in their smart phones and computers.  What has happened to kids?

    I heard a talk the other day, that suggested that there was a marked change in the emotional stability of kids that began in 2012.  That happened to also be the year that parents began giving their children smart phones.  With girls, the suspected cause was their introduction to social media, and apps like Instagram that made them feel depressed and hate themselves.  With boys, it was the excitement in video games, which led to pornography, and then to online sports betting. 

    These problems with kids rose not only in US, bu, like the spread of smart phones, they are worldwide.

    The smart phones not only led to emotionally messed up kids, but also, to kids who don’t read books anymore.  Books are just not exciting as the apps on smart phones, that are designed with their algorithms to keep everyone glued to their phones.  Reading has declined by 40%.  

    I found this news very depressing, because I can’t see any cure for those problems in the generation that grew up with the smart phones.  Sad, very sad.

Take a look at my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca

A Row of Problematic Willows

     I love having deciduous trees around our house, because of the cool shade they provide during the summer.  However, the willow saplings we transplanted when we bought our house almost fifty years ago, have grown so huge and tall, that they now create a threat for the house if they blew over.  Several times now I have had the willows topped when they got to tall, but the trees grow so vigorously with new limbs, that the upper limbs of the trees that sprouted from the cut top, make the trees as high as they were before they were initially topped.

    Sadly, it is now time again to get them topped once again, and this time I want to get the trunks shortened way down, so they don’t create such a threat to the house.  I also want to get those trunks that lean toward the house removed.  Next week the arborist will be coming over to take a look at the project.  

    Topping a tree is one of the worse things you can do to a tree, because cut allows the fungi to get into the trunk, which cause rot that will weaken the trunks and eventually kill the tree.  Like I said, they have already been previously topped a couple of times, and if I get them topped lower, hopefully the trees will once again sprout out new branches, and having the trunks considerably shortened will at least, not threaten the house if they do begin to rot.

    I also have to think about the threat of forest fires.  Most fire prevention plans urge all trees close to the house to be removed, but deciduous trees with their moist leaves, do not burn as readily as conifer trees, and willows grow in moist places and I think the cool shade they provide to the area will help hamper a fire.  At least that is my hope.

You can view buy paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

Yesterday's Prince George Trip

    I always hate to have appointments in Prince George during the winter.  The two and a half hour drive there is long and dangerous enough during the long days of summer, but it always scares me more during the winter.  When an appointment is made, we never know what the winter driving conditions will  be when we have to go:  Icy highway?  Big trucks causing whiteouts in front of you during snow?  Rocks thrown up by passing cars from the “sand” on the highways? and of course, there is always the danger of wild animals darting out in front of you.

    I started yesterday’s trip, leaving the house in the dark, at 7:00.  As I was going down our road headed for the highway, I was delighted to see the moon, just a narrow crescent, rising over the Cariboo Mountains.  (photo above).

    On Highway 16 just west of McBride, I saw, in the distance, the lights of several vehicles parked along the highway.  I slowed, and when I got closer, saw that there had been an accident.  There was a car completely turned upside down in the snow-filled ditch beside the highway.  The accident must have just happened, because there were no first responders, just people who had stopped to help.  Beyond the turned over car, I noticed fresh blood on the highway.  I assume a deer or moose was hit causing the driver to loose control.  I don’t know anything about the condition of the driver.

    Yesterday fortunately, the highway to Prince George was clear of snow and ice, so I was happy that I didn’t have to deal with that along the way.

    When I approached the Slim Creek Rest Area, I notice that the rising sun, just coming up behind me, was illuminating the mountain slope to the west of me, while still leaving the lower trees in the valley shaded.  It was really interesting light, with the orangish light on the treed slope and gray-green trees in the foreground.  I had taken a photo of the same color phenomenon years ago, but couldn’t help but take another shot yesterday:

    Upon arriving in Prince George, I scrambled around doing shopping, eating lunch, then going to the periodontist.  it was 2:00 when that appointment was over, so I immediately started my drive back to McBride.  About an hour outside of McBride, I noticed some nice light hitting a snow-covered peak in the Park Range of the Canadian Rockies, so I pulled over and took the photo below through my windshield. 

    Upon finally getting back to our house at 4:30, I unloaded the car, wondered where to put all of the foodstuffs I had purchased, then had a bite to eat, and tried to relax for 30 minutes, before putting on my western shirt and going to square dancing.

    It had been a long and exhausting day with all of the driving and activities, and I really hadn’t been able to unwind, so I was happy when I was finally be able to crawl into bed.

View my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca

A Flicker, A Blast of Winter Color

     I have a short section of log that I drilled some holes in which I hung on a tree, and fill with peanut butter every morning.  All of the local birds love the peanut butter, especially the woodpeckers.  A few days ago, there was a beautifully colored Flicker that came for some peanut butter.

    Flickers are certainly a distinct and visually striking bird, and I was happy that even though it saw me through the window, it hung around long enough for me to take the photo above.   I really like those orange tail feathers and the polka dot chest.

View my paintings:  davidmarchant2.ca