Yes, that’s the colour ( color, if American ) of spring and to prove it I’m going to show you a set of pictures with lovely hues of blue. First though, lets start with this one.
As you can see, not only are the arms of the bush a brilliant red, the jacket of the old lady sitting sunning herself is also red. But the recycle bin is blue, the garbage bin is grey and if you examine the upper right corner of the photograph you will see a light blue cloudless sky.
And so it came to pass that My Beloved Bangalan and I decided to shake off the long, cold, lonely winter and head out for a quiet breakfast by one The Great Lakes. The Great Lake, in this case, is Lake Ontario, because it doesn’t take much of a drive from my house to fall into this one. The breakfast was disappointing in itself. The food not being up to par, we thought. About a year ago we’d been to this Boulangerie on Lakeshore in Port Credit, in Mississauga We’d sat outside in the sun, had great coffee, home fries, toast and bacon etc. This time She Who Must Not Be Named suggested a new place called The Three Stooges. When we got there, we discovered it used be the fish and chips place behind Starbucks and right across the street from the boat marina. There was a 20-30 minute wait, the food looked good and the servings looked ample. But the tables were set rather close together, it was loud and the wait too long. So we decided to go the Boulangerie. When we got there, however, the Boulangerie had travelled from France, across the Alps into Italy and we now had a steam table, hot lunches. Other than the hot food in the corner, the place didn’t look very different. The baked goods in the window were more Italian. The coffee was good, the home fries were good too. My pancakes were just about okay, coming 3 on a plate with cream on top. The sausage links were terrible, little pieces of sausage, sliced in quarters and cooked crisp and tasteless. Her crepe was tiny, about the size of my pancake and smothered in ricotta and strawberry sauce, which unfortunately looked like something the cat had thrown up. It tasted good, though. Overall, it was disappointing.
Sunday gives us free parking, so we left the car, parked badly by the side of the road and headed off to the lake shore trail. Looking out over the water, a peaceful sight met our eyes. The lonely shipwreck that stands sentinel at the entrance to the Port Credit harbour.
A slightly crisp day, sunny and bright was silent too, until a buzzing got louder and we saw this, overeager skidoeer. The air temperature was only +12c, Lake Ontario is pretty frigid even at the height of summer and 5 days ago we had snowfall. It must have been cold on the skidoo, but I’m sure he was adequately dressed. I couldn’t tell and didn’t really care.
By now you’re getting a sense of the blueness of the walk. Up over head a small plane flew over, it’s single propeller throbbing through the sky. I looked up and way up in the sky, I spotted the contrails of this airliner. The water was clear and still, the sky was blue and cloudless, my eyes were watering from the reaction of the sun and the cold.
We walked back to the car and drove home, where she took a nap and I got to work on those big planters, applying a first coat of sealant. I managed to complete one, before dragging my aging, weary body back indoors from the garage workshop.
That was my Sunday, blue, sunny, bright and crisp. I wish my sausage links had been better. 😦