To the beach

During our recent visit to Cavendish Grove, after a picnic, my husband and I walked to the beach. A trail from the Grove to the beach runs through the trees and takes you near the Lake of Shining Waters. From there it’s a short walk to the shore.

The trail passes through an area where the trees provide a canopy and shadows dance on the path. 

In an open area of trail, 

trees are in bloom as apple and chokecherry 

display their spring beauty. Along this path, forget-me-nots appear through the woods, 

providing a gentle hint of blue through the undergrowth. Where they line the path, their tiny blue and white flowers are easy to remember.

Bees are plentiful on the apple blossoms and on the last of the dandelions before they go to seed.

Before long the sand dunes and the floating walkway on the Lake of Shining Waters lie ahead. 

From there it’s a short walk to the beach. Since we had the golden grand dog with us, we didn’t go on the beach because dogs aren’t permitted this time of year. We had a look though.

In this stage of the Covid opening, public bathrooms in the park are not open. I hope the next stage of opening rectifies this problem, otherwise park personnel will have a different concern.

We walked back to the car at the Grove and watched a Mallard and her ducklings for a few minutes before we left for home. 

It was another great visit to one of our favourite places.

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Last rose

Our weather has been unseasonably warm, 20 degrees Celsius and sunny with warm breezes. We are not accustomed to Octobers with such weather. We are wearing summer clothes, though the fall and winter clothes are on stand-by. An October walk by the bay showed a mix of the last gasps of summer and the promise of autumn.

Wild mustard blooms are almost gone and the seed pods are visible.

Aster blooms are abundant although some have withered and gone to seed.

This type of thistle appears to partially bleach every autumn. Could this effect be due to an iron deficiency or sun scorch?

The winterberry holly has its characteristic berries now, a ready bird food for the winter months.

Grasses along the river which flows into the harbour are showing their age,  as they become more straw-like.

Bees are busy still and wasps are particularly aggressive.

This old tree trunk which we call the perch, is a resting place for a mourning dove on this day. Many species of birds use the perch but a number have already flown south.

And of course, some leaves are changed already.

The Last Rose of Summer, a poem by the Irish poet Thomas More, came to mind any time my husband and I came across the rare fading beauties.

The poem was set to a traditional Irish tune which I love. This version of the song, sung by Celtic Woman, brings back memories of piano lessons and school choir during elementary school. 

The Last Rose of Summer is here.