So today we decided to visit the Calgary Zoo for the first time, changed our minds and headed instead to the Inglewood Bird Sanctuary. The place is lovely and probably, or possibly, teems with birds early in the morning. But when we got there (in the aft) only several ducks were present, dunking for something on the bottom of a pond.

Spoiling any sense of being away from it all, was Deerfoot Trail, the six-lane highway that splits Calgary in two. It's close to the sanctuary, just the other side of the Bow River, and sounds from it are LOUD. We also heard tremendous screeches, like a giant forever squeaking chalk on a celestial blackboard, which I assumed came from a nearby industrial area.

So while the Sanctuary looked lovely, the air was perfect, and no bugs harassed, we decided any future visits would need to take place at dawn. "Be here in the quietness of the morning when birds are active," we said.

Afterward we cruised the Northeast and Northwest (a little) with windows down. We checked out areas, wondering where else we might want to live. It all was so ideal weather-wise and I kept reminding myself of it, not wanting, as longtime Calgarians often do, to take it for granted. "Back east," I keep telling myself and others, "people would be exclaiming and exulting about just how PERFECT the weather is." But here such days keep coming around and coming around. How often can one exclaim about them? Calgarians are more likely to remind one another instead that this soon will pass.

And so it will, but perhaps this winter we will escape the worst of it and some of us will find more things in the sky and on earth to rejoice over.