…and possibly for the last time this year, depending on when the snow flies. Anyhow, it was just a short paddle, playing around in the riffles under/around the St. Lawrence street bridge in Bishops Mills. Due to the rain we’ve had lately, water levels were higher than they’ve been in recent memory – but still not deep enough to get a good pull when you’re heading upstream. Of course, navigating the narrow creek’s proto-rapids in the big aluminum canoe (“Old Ironsidesâ€) is a bit of a challenge. A good challenge, though.
Well, the canoe was barely wet when we noticed a small pumpkin floating downstream (“gourd overboard!â€). The good news is that it was recovered in one piece, and will be incorporated into some baking later this week; you know how the old saying goes: “out of the creek and into the pie.â€
So, as befits a November day with August weather, we took a wander out back – and came across an old disc harrow. See if you can make it out:
As you can see, it’s grown right over with dogwood, grass, and prickly Elm Ash (ouch). It’s nice and ironic, seeing how this implement that was once used to turn the land is now overgrown, practically invisible. Here’s a closer look:
Cause and effect: we spent the afternoon picking burrs out of dog fur. Reading, too (Ben Jonson and an old copy of Men’s Health magazine); it’s funny that men’s preoccupations and sense of humour really haven’t changed much in the past 400 years or so.
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Prickly Ash
Also it’s Mill Street there — just because it’s a continuation of St Lawrence Street doesn’t mean it bears that name. Later it becomes West Street, and then Victoria Street, and finally at the crest of the Hare’s Hill, it “settles down” to the zigzags of Jig Street. The creek itself may be “North Kemptville Creek,” “the North Branch of Kemptville Creek,” or “Middle Creek,” but nothing much had happened to it since it was “Muldoons Creek” either as the inlet or outlet of Cranberry Lake. Nobody has ever accused Bishops Mills of toponomic simplicity.