Getting better at quitting quitting

It’s been a long time since my last post, but not yet a year. My last break exceeded a year. Hey, I’ll take my little victories when I can find them.

I obviously need  to track and police my walking. I will never understand that, since I am almost always thrilled once I am out there, whether for a stroll or a long hike. It’s the action of getting off my duff and out the door that I can’t seem to master. Last night I was motivated. It was the last nice day we were going to have for nearly a week. Much needed rain arrived today. I took Kenna out for a rambling walk along the Red river in Kildonan Park. Tonight, not so much. It’s been raining all day, and I have had trouble keeping my eyes open. It was a curl up with a book day.

Back to last night, though. We haven’t been to the park since the snow went, so it was good to see it starting to get the green back. Kildonan Park has a very good paved and crushed gravel pathways, but I tend to take us to the non-official, foot path next to the river. Next to the river is important, but so too is the tree cover. I can let Kenna off the leash, since  she stays with me, and there is rarely anyone on that path. She can veer off and swim at will, and gets twice the exercise.

Along the path there were several scarred areas, obviously from large bonfires,. I was scratching my head, because it just didn’t seem possible people would be allowed a fire that size, not in a fire=ring, in the middle of a very dry spring. There were more and more of them as I went along. Adding the evidence further along of intense brush clearing, it became obvious that the fires were park maintenance people cleaning up the blowdown and dead trees in the park.

Kenna went for a few swims, and we were attacked from the air by a pair of geese. I thought perhaps we were getting close to a nest, but if they have a nest with eggs or babies, they are the world’s worst parents. They had been goofing off over on the golf course before they attacked. On the way back, I saw them back over on the course. I wish I had been quick enough to get the camera up when they did the low, well-voiced flyby I am calling an attack. I might be exaggerating a bit, but you don’t pay much attention to geese. They are everywhere. But when they are over top, and sound like they are right over your head, all you can think of is the size of those bodies.

Point of interest: I may have brought this here in the past, but it still amazes me. I have never seen railway bridges swung apart like this anywhere else, and I know of at least two in the city of Winnipeg. The bridge, or at least the centre section, was obviously built on a swivel base. When they take the bridge out of commission, they swing the whole centre section until it rests at a 90 degrees to the other sections.  I have two pics here. The closer view is not at the right angle to show the space between the centre and the two sections attached to the shorelines. The distance shot gives a much better view, but you must ignore the tree in the foreground. I have no idea whether this is used only in decommissioned lines, or if it was ever a functional method to allow taller boats to get past the bridge.

That question sent me to Google, and I came up with a Wikipedia page. Looks like my bridge is called a swing bridge, and can be used to clear a pathway.
The final hurrah of the evening, was my first shorts and Tshirt sunset of the year. It was getting close to 9pm when I spotted this. Yet one more sign that summer is very, very close.

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