By Sylvie O’Rourke
It is the calm between storms, and we are taking full advantage of it. Blessedly, we’ve had no shortage of deep fluffy snow this winter. Snowshoes are a necessity rather than merely an option for added traction. We are stoked to be at the Mer Bleue Trails in Gloucester, Ontario. It is a much-needed respite from all the political unrest seeping across our southern border. Fresh air is such a balm for the soul!
There is no time to waste standing around. It is much too cold for that. Starting on a shared trail, we strive to avoid marring the classic ski tracks. The fresh snow and ungroomed trails are challenging for the skiers determined to venture out in these conditions. Obliterated by the recent snow dump, the next trail is a bit of a slog. I am lucky to be at the back of the line where many pairs of snowshoes have already trampled it down. The appearance of another snowshoer coming from the opposite direction is a welcomed sight. It means the snow ahead has been packed somewhat and will help decrease our efforts.
A waypoint marker at the next junction displays a trail map allowing us to confirm our location and choose our remaining route. A few meters down a narrower path, chirping sounds alert us of the approaching trailhead. A village of feeders populating the nearby trees clarifies the influx of chickadees crowding around us. The black-capped cuties are bold and excited to see us, quite likely assuming we come bearing snacks. We erupt in laughter as they land on our shoulders and heads. While photographing one on a nearby fencepost, another lands on my phone. It is a great distraction, but we are only partway around our loop and must resume our trek.
Another trail, only navigable on the coldest winter days, takes us through the bog. We snowshoe through an expansive vista of cattails and deserted nests in winter-bared trees. A high-rise building emerges in the distance like a fictional bog monster. It seems out of place and is a stark reminder that this spacious conservation area is in a suburb of Ottawa. It is easy to forget this when surrounded by nature. To my left, a massive wall of invasive grass known as phragmites towers over us threatening to damage the bog’s biodiversity. Our passage through the open bog is colder, the clouded sky and biting wind reminding us of the upcoming storm. My numbing face finds relief as we exit the bog onto the more sheltered trail through the woods.
Movement up ahead makes me suspect the presence of more feeders. Someone says they see a Blue Jay but all I spy are chickadees and downy woodpeckers. Then, in my peripheral vision, I catch a flutter of wings. My heart skips a beat as, at eye level, I observe a raptor on the prowl heading straight for me. Much to my amazement, I realize it is an owl in full pursuit of its lunch. The owl, just as startled by my presence, abandons its chase making a beeline for the safety of a nearby tree. A chickadee’s life has been spared, at least for now. As none of my companions have witnessed the action, I alert them to the presence of the Barred Owl. We stand below it, mesmerized at its nearness as it stares back at us curiously. It seems unruffled by our presence, but I am not fooled. Behind its poker face, it must surely be seething after losing its meal. For me, selfishly, it is a hoot to observe. As an amateur wildlife photographer, I mourn the absence of my zoom-lens camera, but I must acknowledge that I likely would not have toted it on a 9-kilometer snowshoe trek. We take a last glimpse at the skilled hunter and leave so as not to stress it further. Besides, my stomach is growling, and I too am ready for lunch. I know it is the cycle of nature, but I pray that this opportunistic predator finds a furry rodent to strike with its talons rather than one of my beloved avian friends.
This distraction from politics and headline news is just what I needed today. I feel restored and ready to shovel my way out of the next storm. And who knows what surprise awaits me on my next excursion?
SDG & A Cornwall Seeker, www.theseeker.ca, April 2025, page 9