Downtime

The late summer is a glorious time here in eastern Ontario. The humidity of July is mostly a memory, the evenings begin to cool down to a comfortable temperature for sleeping, and the social calendar is full with family and friends.

My nature photography equipment gets a well-earned rest during this season. My camera still gets exercise, shooting model portfolios and family photos, but the big lens is tucked away in the Pelican case, biding it's time.

The blue jays are beginning to call. Flocks of Canada geese announce themselves as they come into the pond from feeding in nearby fields. They are joined at dusk by small flocks of mallards and wood ducks. The first few maple leaves are beginning to show a hint of what is to come. New England Aster and Goldenrods are beginning to paint a carpet of color in the meadow. The small white berries of gray dogwood and the blue nannyberries are frequented by flocks of song birds, fattening up for migration. as accipiters and harriers begin to cruise low over the bushes hunting them

It won't be long. My room is booked at near Algonquin for the last week of September, and plans are in place for a visit to southern Ontario. October should find me in Maine and Northern Ontario, all things being equal. The summer drought will be over.

This Field I Speak Of.....

Is likely the one in the top left of the accompanying image, nearest the large pond.

I built that, and the other pond. Not me personally but persons "in my employ" - that has a ring to it , don't it?

The pictured farm is home to the headquarters of John Haig, World Famous Nature Photographer, Playboy and Sportsman. Did I leave out Chef and Author? If I do have a fault, it's modesty.

Said HQ has been in the Haig Family since they arrived from Scotland in the mid-1800's. Some say it's our strong ties to our farming roots that keep us on the land. Others, the love of the pastoral scenery and idyllic lifestyle. Me, I'm thinking a lack of ambition and a pragmatic sense of "this'll do" has something to figure in the equation. The old Clan Haig motto may shed some light: "Tyde what may" concerning the resolution of the Haigs to stay fixed in their lands back in Scotland.
Whatever the case may be, we're here. In mid-January, when the west wind howls unhindered at 40 mph and the thermometer is at the same temperature on both the Fahrenheit and Celsius scales, I have frequent cause to believe insanity may have something to do with living here, as it does in much of this vast iceberg of a country. But from March through November, in most years, the land is abundant with life, the breeze never stops, and the water shines under clear, smog free skies. Our well runs from the same spring my grandfather's great grandfather discovered, and the water is pure, cold and delicious. When I'm off roaming, it's often the thing I miss the most about home.

The cattle in the foreground of the image belong to my father, who at age 75, still enjoys working with them daily. He is fit, fitter than I am at 42, and the last of the true farmers in our family's long line. Actually, those particularly cattle are long since dearly departed, as this image is a decade or more old, and we are, after all, beef farmers. Traditionally, we were a dairy operation, but with the modernization and incoming quota system in the early 1970's, we made the switch to beef.

Speaking of, it's time to get dinner. After which, I'll likely take my camera, or perhaps just my binoculars, and go for a hike to the pond. I've got dozens of potential photography subjects staked out for the next few weeks, but I'm always on the lookout for more.