Duck Ponds and Dog Days of Summer

Ducks, little to my foreknowledge, quite enjoy sticking their asses up for a special tan and while paddling their orange tootsies, manage to feed themselves unabashedly. All quite hilarious as Stephen and I watched nature in all her bounty at the edge of Lost Lagoon. We can sit for hours.

We have found special benches where we can sit again in quietness and enjoy peace while observing the loveliness of Stanley Park from what seems like unlimited perspectives. Once, when we found what we thought was an unpopular trail, one man came struggling through the underbrush furtively and managed to examine us without a word; and then another from the other direction and then I realized we were in a gay zone of anonymous sex fiends. Oh well. They were surely not predisposed to conversation… panting and exhibiting animal propensities. Perhaps they succeeded in finding each other but they didn’t succeed in communicating the vastness of their humanity. Stephen and I were equally repulsed.

But for some comic relief we always watch the urban dog-owners with their stretcho- leashes which command the sidewalks until they have to bend over and heel as they 'scoop' their dog's remainings. Ah, and who's the master.


I am gratified that Stephen can make tuna salad sandwiches and his sense of generosity is so plain he reminds me of the hospitable maritimers I am so thankful to have as my ancestors. He continues every day to come to life, swimming sometimes as though baptised again and it is a mercy to witness. Hope.