Jack’s Walk

I’m lichen you, ©voyager, all rights reserved

These big rocks form a breakwater protecting railway tracks that run alongside the beach for miles. It’s not the prettiest breakwater I’ve ever seen, but that bright orange lichen on the rocks makes it one of the most interesting.  It’s been there as long as my husband can remember and it never seems to change. That colour is fairly true if it looks like Cheetos on your screen and it stays that bright in all seasons and temperatures. I think it looks like paint splotches and it makes a great foil for all the blues that like to blend at the beach.

Jack’s Walk

The back side of the Perce Rock, ©voyager, all rights reserved

Jack has his stitches removed tomorrow afternoon and if he gets the “all clear” he can go back to normal activity. The incision is looking good and I’m fairly confident we should have no problems. In fact, Jack seems pretty happy to have the lump gone. He’s never once tried to pick at the wound and the past few days he’s been stretching out his arm and prancing around the house. It must feel like freedom to have that huge lump gone. Hopefully we can get back to our normal adventures on Wednesday, but that leaves 2 more days to reminisce about the Gaspe. This photo was taken on a foggy day from the highway near Barachois and in the distance you can see the back side of the Perce Rock on the left, Mt. Joli and the town of Perce in the center and Mt. St. Anne on the right. From this side the rock always reminds me of a horse bending to take a drink. The birds are mostly cormorants with one gull of exception.

 

Jack’s Walk

It’s a white winter wonderland in Ontario today, but Jack and I are hiding out in the house avoiding the snow. It looks like it’s going to stick around for a while, though, so Jack will be able to frolic to his heart’s content on Tuesday. In the meantime, I thought today I’d share some winter photos of the Gaspe Coast. This is sunset on the Perce Rock and it’s magical to watch. Mt. St. Anne sits directly behind Perce in the west and as the sun slowly sets it casts a shadow that rises up the rock. Every day the sun shines, the show goes on. These photos were taken in October of 2016 on North Beach.

©voyager, all rights reserved

©voyager, all rights reserved

©voyager, all rights reserved

Jack’s Walk

Riviere Peche, ©voyager, all rights reserved

It’s been snowing here since last night and Jack is chuffed. He wants to go out and play, but he’s isn’t allowed any exercise until next week when the stitches come out. Jack does not like this and he’s been making his displeasure known. He sits wistfully looking out the windows and whenever we pass by he looks up and makes little crying noises. When we tell him he has to wait he heaves a heavy sigh and lays his big, bowling ball of a head down dramatically with a thunk. He hates the word wait and his patience has worn thin. He was full-on giddy with excitement this morning when I took him out to the yard for business and even the promise of cookies couldn’t lure him in. I had to promise ice cream (a rare treat) before he even paid me any mind. It’s going to be a long few days until Tuesday.

The summer photo for today is of Riviere Peche, or Fish River. The river empties into the sea at the bottom of the hill where it meets the beach at Smuggler’s Cove.

Jack’s Walk

This is a bit of an extended Jack’s Walk with a few photos we took while traveling through the Matapedia Valley on our way east. The area is world renowned for salmon and trout fishing and the river is dotted with high end fly fishing resorts. The Mr. and I fish with rod and reel, but we’d both like to try our hand at fly fishing. Most resorts are now catch and release (after the photo, of course) and there are strict limits on what can be kept. There are also fishery officials out and about watching. I know from personal experience, but that’s a story for another time. The last three photos were taken from the car.

Passing over the great rivers of the Matapedia Valley, ©voyager, all rights reserved

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Contortions

Many things have fascinated me over the course of my life, not necessarily because I understood or understand them fully, but usually because there is some element of incomprehension – the idea of Schrödinger’s cat, for example, or a mysterious book that is actually a treasure hunt. While the first led to many… odd creations of art that included cats perched pensively in boxes in outer space surrounded by snakes and spiral galaxies, the second had gorgeous paintings of their own that I can still remember clearly (though I never solved the riddle itself).

About a year ago, I found myself returning to the paintings of Masquerade – though subconsciously. I was playing around with cats contorted into unusual positions by virtue of being forced into a small box: the frame, as it were. The whole idea was that you could place it any way you like, there was no proper up-down orientation. Later, as it happened, I had to adjust the subject matter to more closely align to a colleague’s preferences, and the final painting is of a horse (of course), about 10cm x 15cm.

It even works when upside down.
©rq, all rights reserved.

And although one’s own paintings should look familiar, there was something more to it that wouldn’t stop poking at the back of my brain, until I remembered this image:

A page from Masquerade by Kit Williams.

Not quite the contortioning example of equine flexibility I came up with, but one can see the signs of influence. And it’s always fascinating how these sorts of little things can come together to become something new and different.

Anyway, I like my horse-in-a-box, and one day I will also complete the originally-intended cat-in-a-box.

To be honest, I always pictured Schrödinger’s poor cat as something of an unfortunate astronaut.

Wednesday Wings

David sends these wonderful images of pelicans.  Plus a bonus cormorant, I think.

I don’t think there can ever be too many Pelicans, so here is a bunch
roosting on a submerged tree, Murray River, Loxton, South Australia.

pelicans

©David Brindley, all rights reserved

pelicans

©David Brindley, all rights reserved

pelicans

©David Brindley, all rights reserved

Jack’s Walk

Fashionista with a happy tail, ©voyager, all rights reserved

This is Jack this morning and you’ll notice that his tail is out of focus. That’s because he was wagging it for the first time since his surgery last week. He had a few post-op complications, including a vein that popped out and bled for 2 days before the vet had to add 3 staples to his incision. Even after the staples were inserted the area oozed for another few days. That finally stopped on Sunday, but it wasn’t until this morning that Jack looked up at me and smiled his goofy guy smile. Now I can relax a bit. It’s another week before the stitches come out, but the incision is looking good and Jack is his usual happy self again. I’ve never been happier to have an out of focus photo.

 

Jack’s Walk

 

The tracks at Corner of the Beach, about 15 minutes outside of Perce, ©voyager, all rights reserved

Lack of routine maintenance now equals expensive major repairs, ©voyager, all rights reserved

When my husband was young there were daily trains going to Perce, a little town at the end of the Gaspe Peninsula. The train brought supplies and tourists and was the main form of transportation for residents of the town to get Quebec City and Montreal for specialist doctors, hospitals, shopping and schools. Over the years the trains started coming less often and finally in August of 2013 the train stopped coming at all. Today train service will only take you as far east as  Matapedia and good luck getting farther east from there because even the buses have stopped going to Perce. It’s all about economics. More people drive nowadays and there is an airport in Gaspe that handles a lot of supply and tourist traffic. Also, track maintenance is expensive and everybody thinks somebody else should pay for it. The tracks in this photo were a vital part of life in the Perce area for just about 100 years. When I first started coming here 20+ years ago we used to wave at the trains from the beach as they passed us by.  I miss that.