Walked miles last week from my camp headquarters in Woodlands campground, Sandbanks PP. Walked to West Point, a favourite spot. Hiked the mysterious Dunes Trail. Trudged to the outlet of the Outlet River (mouth of the river now drifted in with sand til spring. Dad, you'd be interested to know), and along the Cedar Sands trail.
|Dunes trail...my private desert|
As I walked, breathing in the fall energy, heart leaping at the beauty all around, I did note the absence of buildings upon which to comment. But an old house-nut is never deterred for long. I spotted these little structures on my walk to West Point.
Bird boxes...possibly an attempt to lure Eastern blue-birds to take up house-keeping? And what houses! Numbered, of course, so some biology-minded summer student can keep tabs on the population.
But even more interestingly, for this house-nut, little square flat-roofed structures, with cantivered porch roofs. And I wonder to myself, whatever led us humans to create homes for creatures of bush, meadow and tree, building these tiny houses in imitation of our own. Did we imagine little rugs, tiny paintings on the walls, miniature rocking chairs?
Oh well. Let's enjoy the walk. I'll be back in the city soon enough.