Revelations

One thing I rather like about November is that with the foliage gone, you can see the rivers. (Sounds a bit like I'm clutching at straws, doesn't it?)

About this time, three years ago, I was taking the Accent Snob on what I call The Long Walk. We followed the streets that line the back of the grounds of Rideau Hall, the residence of the Canadian Governor General, following the wrought iron railings until the dog and I reached the Rockcliffe Parkway. From there, just a short walk away from 24 Sussex Drive, official residence of the Prime Minister, I looked out over the Ottawa River to the province of Québec.

This is what I saw one late Sunday afternoon in 2012:

You can click on this to enlarge it.

Writing blog-posts forces you to look things up. It took a bit of scrolling over a Google Map of the neighbourhood to figure out that I was looking at the Paroisse St-François-De-Sales, built in 1840, and standing on the bank of the Gatineau River, just before it meets the Ottawa River, which in turn flows in an easterly direction towards Montréal, where it merges with the St Lawrence.

That late afternoon in Ottawa, it was a nameless ethereal church glowing in the light of a dying afternoon, framed with the tattered remains of autumn.

Phantom leaves

I took this picture on November 4th, 2012. It's the sidewalk behind Rideau Hall, along Lisgar Road, what was left after that autumn's leaves had been swept away.

Thunder-head-lights

It had been an odd day, anyway: a bomb scare to the north of us which faded from the social media as suddenly as it had appeared.  The city blackened under a sudden violent shower, followed by a double rainbow.

I missed both, but heading out in the early evening with the Accent Snob, noticed that our neighbour hood was ringed with thunderheads.  Saffron walls of cloud to the east and the south lit the streets in an eery glow.  I'd left my Nikon at home, of course.

To the west, the sky was mauve and peach, behind houses lit from the east, so it felt like morning and evening at the same time.

It was rather spooky, to tell you the truth.  The streets were nearly deserted, although I could hear voices from yards where Ottawans were determined to barbecue, damn it, on this last weekend before the year begins its turn in the direction of autumn and winter.

As I walked on, the thunderheads to the south and the east took the peach from the clouds in the west, and the upper windows of the houses blazed with lights -- although no one was home.  The dog pulled mightily on his leash; he wanted nothing of this nonsense and tried to go home. I only dropped my phone once, cursing him.

I don't suppose the view east -- yes, east! -- up McKay Street inspired his confidence, particularly when  I stood in the middle of the deserted street to get this shot, hauling him back with one hand, while poking the phone screen with the other.  The next morning, the sun rose in the east as usual.

But not as spectacularly.

September to September

September 29th, 2012

This is the view of the Peace Tower as I saw it exactly one year ago.  For years, I've wanted to take a series of photos showing the wheel of the seasons.  It wasn't until exploring various routes with the Accent Snob during his first autumn with us that I noticed the vista from the vantage of the Whomping Willow.  (It doesn't look like any willow I'm used to, but the twisted trunk reminds me of the psychopathic tree in the film version of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.) 

October 9th, 2012

So, every few weeks for the past twelve months, I've marched the Accent Snob near the off-leash section of New Edinburgh Park (he's not a candidate for off-leash), lined myself up with the "whomping willow" and paced to the water's edge, so I would be at the same point for each shot.

October 21, 2012

I needed to take rather more photos in the fall when the changes in the view were more dramatic. 

November 4th, 2012

Hallowe'en, then Remembrance Day came and went, taking the foliage with them.

November 14th, 2012

And finally the water froze and it was a challenge to get the shot before my hands did the same.

December 25th, 2012

Fewer changes in the winter landscape, so fewer photos.  (And it's a long walk in -30 Celsius.)

February 10th, 2013

The time of day makes a difference too with an early sunset and foolhardy tracks across the Rideau.

March 17th, 2013

Four days until the vernal equinox in Ottawa.  This is why it's "March Break", never "Spring Break".

April 26th, 2013

We're never sure if the snow is gone.  Unless it's mid-May, winter can always come roaring back.

May 4th, 2013

The ever-hopeful green makes its first appearance about a week later....

May 26th, 2013

...and with frightening speed, takes over the landscape, before spring changes her mind.

June 30th, 2013

On the eve of Canada Day, I only had my phone handy.

August 11th, 2013

Another phone shot, on a day when it was too warm to linger long.

September 4th, 2013

Full circle, September to September, back to my Nikon.  I'm not sure I'll do something like this again, but I'm glad I finally did.

O Holy Bike (Merry Ninth Day of Christmas)

Having a dog means venturing out in all weathers at all times of the day, and it was our first Christmas with the Accent Snob when I stumbled upon the Christmas-Cycle. It's still there this year and I rather love it, even though it reminds me a little bit of a Ghost Bicycle. This seems a deal cheerier though, and it wouldn't surprise me if it predates the ghost bike idea. With the discovery last fall that I can actually take pictures while juggling a leash, gloves, a flashlight and a bag of dog poop, I offer this existing-light interpretation.

Oh, and the name of the street where the Christmas-Cycle is gradually disappearing under layers of snow? Noel. Isn't that perfect?