SMELLS

I Found That (Green) Golden Ring

Whilst gathering a basketful of tattered old clothes for Samhain deep-woods bonfire fuel, I happened to recover the sneak-a-toke pipe I misplaced in August. Sitting at the bottom of that basket the whole time. Behold, a photographic reenactment of that amazing discovery, taken with my new phone. Whose purchase was necessitated by Little Jeannie’s sudden retirement to the great network in the sky after four years of loyal service. The new phone is called Little Suzi.

Little Suzi’s on the up. And she’ll smile for the camera with all she’s got.

SMELLS

Summer’s Last Crumbs: A Duology (Part II)

I was not aware that entire buildings were constructed for such a purpose. That’s now a thing that I know.

Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese…

Regrettably, Jack-in-the-Green mysteriously disappeared the other weekend, somewhere along another nature trail near another lake. This is his replacement, Professor Plum.

I would have called it Deep Purple if it was a slightly different hue.

SMELLS

Summer’s Last Crumbs: A Duology (Part I)

Nestled somewhere deep in the woods is a spot where a dude can really get his Zen on. Well worth the (slightly steep) price of a parking permit. The province will soon be shutting down that spot for the winter, so I decided to squeeze in one last visit.


This strain is called Monkey’s Breath. I think. Most of the bowl was already smoked before I even thought to take a picture of it.
That’s one fancy looking outhouse.
I bet there’s at least one jackass every year who’s actually glad to pay that extra $150.

Behind the fancy outhouse is a yellow brick road. Except it’s a more of a drab grey colour, and the bricks are wooden. Didn’t see any lions or tigers, but at one point I thought I heard a bear. Which turned out to be just a very loud squirrel. Oh my!

“…and you’ve just had some kind of mushroom, and your mind is moving low…”

There’s no Emerald City at the end of that yellow brick road. Instead, one finds something arguably even better. Another lake.

That’s probably the Wizard’s house, but I ain’t swimming that far.

That feeling of sand between one’s toes is regrettably nowhere near as blissful as it was but a few weeks ago. I spent very little time at the beach, save a quick polar bear plunge to wash off the sweat accrued from a four-kilometre hike. One I didn’t have to apply two coats of DEET all over every inch of my body for. The mosquitoes (which are the size of small dogs around these parts) have been thankfully reclaimed by the spirits.