I decided to write about my region. I live in Central Ontario, not far from Bracebridge on this map. I spent the first 25 years of my life in Toronto, the 2nd 25 in Ottawa. We have had some animal stories here in Ontario. The animals are quite restless, as are humans. Hunters are out and the police are warning drivers.
Firstly, a wallaby escaped from its pen after a tree fell on the fence. The poor wee thing has been tracked all over south eastern Ontario from its home in Kingston. Their website tracks its sightings. It has made the news as it pops up in orchards and travels around. The first woman who sighted it didn't really believe what she saw!
Next, the Fallow Deer Reserve, near Kingston, had someone vandalize their fence and shoo their 13 rescued deer outside of the pen. A damn shame during hunting season, especially. They managed to herd 6 of them back in, and another returned, but the others are AWOL. What are people thinking?
We have had some wicked rain, and have gone from balmy 20+ Celsius (68 F) temperatures, to single digits in a day. It sure changes your perspective. The leaves are down and the November Lake Effect rains have been coming in. The winds whip across Georgian Bay, from across the Great Lakes, and our lake is slowly filling up with rain in preparation for the winter freeze. The water and the snow protects nature, both animal and vegetable, in Mother Nature's blanket. However, I know what the Spring will bring (YouTube video) and laud it, too.
That said, the sunrises have been exquisite. Each change in temperature, sun and light levels paint a different picture.
Ollie's friends have flown away in a southerly direction. He would watch them from the dock in the summer. We called them Eva and Eddie (here is their Spring story!). I shall miss them.
The ducks, now grown, still hang around our frontage, eyeing warily the hunters that pass by in their boats. The warm temperatures have delayed their trip.They are a bit jumpy and the ducks that formerly approached when they saw me move towards the barn, and the cracked corn supply, fly off until I put out the food and move away.