Happy St. Patrick’s Day readers! Sorry I went all MIA for the last four days but I’m back. I was sick Thursday and Friday and out of town Saturday and Sunday. Luckily, aside from the days that I was down and out with a fever, I still managed to take photographs. I don’t think you’ll be overwhelmed with four at once, will you? I’ll try to keep the commentary short, I promise.
Saturday morning I woke up early at my sister’s house in the countryside near Belleville. I made my coffee before anyone else was up and spent my time by the large picture window. It was a while before I realised that I had company. I’d been looking out toward the Trent River when I noticed something large and dark moving out of the corner of my eye. It was a group of three wild turkeys. I watched in amazement as they waddled their huge bodies and impressive plumage around the yard. I’d never seen one up close before so this was rather thrilling. You can imagine how much I wished I had my good camera though!
It wasn’t too long before the turkeys took off toward the treeline and I was left alone again. I went back for more coffee and when I looked out the window again, I was startled to see a flock of very large birds in the trees that were bare only moments before. I thought to myself, turkeys don’t fly, what the heck are those?! Well, they were Turkey Vultures, of course! Ugly beggars up there in the branches, at least fifteen of them, looking down on the world for their next meal.
I only captured the 4 closest ones (the birds only look like large back dots in the wide shot), but look at the sun in the tree tops!
On my way back to Ottawa from Belleville I usually stop in Kingston. I went to university there and have fond memories of the place. To be brief, there was a place my friends and I used to go to now and then and it was located in a very old part of town near the massive Kingston Penitentiary. The Ports, we called it affectionately, or otherwise known as the Portsmouth tavern, was first established in 1863. It’s gone through many changes since then but still manages to convey character. It was strange to be there alone and only sipping a lemon water, but it was a wonderful walk down memory lane.
Last, but not least, my photo from today is the Celtic cross. Rather appropriate for St. Patrick’s Day, wouldn’t you say? This is one of the last gifts my mother ever gave me before she passed away. I love how the green of it glistens and I think fondly of how my mom loved St. Patrick’s Day. It was right up there with Christmas for her. Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh! See you tomorrow folks!