A chilly ride

For the first time in weeks, I did not have the pleasure of Fred Douglass's company for my morning exercise. Since sometime in March, I've been listening to the audio book of David W. Blight's long, Pulitzer-winning biography, Frederick Douglass: Prophet of Freedom - and enjoying it. 

Today, however, I rode my bike for exercise, killing two birds with one stone by running an errand as well. We had ordered 16 sausages for curbside pickup from Butcher's Blend at the Western Fair Market. Some of my indirect route there was along river path, but some was on city streets, and  I didn't think it prudent to wear earbuds that might drown traffic sounds. 

I have never been a great reader of biographies. I've tried reading the lives of a people I admired, but with few exceptions got bogged down and bailed before the end. Audio books solve the problem for me. I don't have to do the work, and I can continue to read other, more compelling fare on my own. I will probably look for another biography when Fred finally kicks the bucket - or some other non-fiction.

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Yesterday afternoon, I went for a somewhat longer ramble than intended. Given how pleased I was with some of the house-and-garden pictures I'd taken the day before, I headed back into an old residential neighbourhood, this time Woodfield Village. I walked east as far as Adelaide St., mostly on Princess Ave., then back along Dufferin St. 

I'm not quite as pleased with the resulting pictures - the lighting wasn't as good for one thing - but did get a few I like. Well, quite a few, I guess.

There really are some lovely homes in this city! And many of their owners spare no expense or trouble in making the outsides beautiful.

On the walk back along Dufferin, I came upon a woman doing the same thing I was: taking pictures of gardens and flowering trees. We spoke for a few minutes. She felt there really were more trees blossoming this year, with more blooms. She also gassed on about the healing effects of walking and noticing the blooms, especially for people with mental health issues. She said she did it every day.

Talking to her reminded me of something I read in The Hidden Life of Trees. Trees that don't fruit every year "decide" whether they will or not, and start preparing, the year before. And all the trees of the same species in a forest will fruit the same year. Scientists believe trees base their decisions on assessments of likely local conditions. 

The author mostly talked about how trees in the German woods where he works are thought to calculate when the population of critters that eat their seed pods or nuts will be lower, so their seeds have a better chance of rooting that year.

Of course, these are not forest trees we're talking about here in London, and I don't even know whether any of our locally-growing flowering trees only fruit some years. Can trees forecast climate conditions, I wonder?

The woman I spoke to thought the reduction in pollution might be a factor in more trees blooming with more blooms.