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"Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride." — John F. Kennedy, 35th President of the United States of America There was an early morning chill to the air, an autumn feeling that kissed sun-baked skin as I moved along the streets. The sweet 'Mary Poppins' ride, a cornflower blue bicycle sans gears and handle breaks, but proudly bearing a silver bell,  is my mode of choice for getting to and from work each day.  In the fresh air, any leftover brain fog is cleared away, while sluggish muscles are wakened.  I shout my "Good mornings!" to neighbours and acquaintances on my travels, giving the trip a social vibe. The thing with cycling is that it doesn't really take much more time to travel the seven blocks to the office than it would to drive.  By the time someone else unlocks a vehicle, gets in, fastens their seatbelt, turns the key and puts it in drive, I'm already a block and half on my way. Stop signs slow them down far more than t

"Draw an alligator please. It's my favourite animal." Disappointing my granddaughter is something I strenuously avoid. So far, her naivety has her holding me in the highest regard. I know some day the light in her eyes won't shine quite as brightly as it does now, but I certainly don't want to look in them and see it fade just yet. Thus, when this darling asked me to draw an alligator, momentary panic struck. There's little more I want to do than please her, but my artistic ability can be described only as rudimentary. Her mother, a preschool educator, draws some pretty realistic animals for her. Would the lines I etch out in sidewalk chalk pass muster with this four-year-old, whom,  I should mention, does exact some pretty high standards from her loyal followers. Looking into those enigmatic baby blues of hers as she passed me the necessary tool for my creative effort, a chunk of Pepto pink, I knelt to the task, furrowed brow beaded with nervous sweat

"Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you." — Nathaniel Hawthorne The sultriness hung in the air like thick fog on a dark night,  while cicadas sang soprano notes from treetops. As a gentle breeze cut a welcome trail through the humidity,  butterflies performed their soft dance along the way.  From the subtle Cabbage White to the more dramatic Swallowtail, a variety came through to grace us with their lovely presence. Our daughter lives in a country home nestled amidst several urban centres. The property includes some acreage of woodland as well as a natural pond where a variety of flora and fauna thrive. Occasionally, some of the latter make their way to us. The howl of coyotes rise through the night air, at times at a range that's less than desirable. Deer and rabbits visit the garden on the sly, the odd frog strays to the children's play area much to the youngs