The Fine Print

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Brockville 'Greens Up' With Spring

  The birds were singing, and the sun was warm as my wife and step-son walked along the Brockville bike path this evening, just after dinner. As the
effects of what was a reasonably mild winter wears into memory, people are beginning to get more active, working on their yards, or getting out and about
in the warmer temperatures. There are many ways to enjoy our early spring, and one of my favourites is the bike path, which winds along beside Butler's
Creek, creating a quiet and green walkway throughout the city. Resident waterfowl can usually be seen along the way, and the sound of the gurgling creek
is nearby most of the way...

  The path also ties in nicely with Brockville's history, and what is today used by cyclists, dog-walkers, and children began in some areas as the Brockville
and Westport Railway. Started in 1888, and making its final run in 1952, the old roadbed of this rail line is now part of the bike path. Jones' Mill, which still
stands, is at the very south end of the path, and its ponds were removed to put in the rail line around 1884. I spotted very old railway ties near Church St.
along side the path, left over evidence from the past, now overgrown with mosses.

  Further north along the bicycle path, in some areas especially in the summer months, the city seems to disappear, as you walk through areas with hanging
wild vines and thick undergrowth, even though you are really walking almost right behind homes and businesses. Bridges ocassionally cross the creek, and
the city parks staff have done a fabulous job with cement planters and park benches along the way. Planted trees serve as memorials, all decorated with a
small plaques to immortalize the beloved departed, and tablets with various interesting historical facts line the way in spots.

  So if you are feeling the urge to do something to become a little more active, enjoy the early spring, or get some exercise, the community bicycle path is
sure to make you take a deep breath of the fresh air. If your partner rolls their eyes a bit or groans when you mention it, tell them to get off their email, and let
them in on another little secret about the path... Yes, grab your blackberry, your ipod, or netbook... you can even find Net access at some spots along your walk,
if you need it!

No comments:

New Stuff!

Space Mail

The main console came to life, and LEDs began to light up everywhere in the darkened cockpit. It had been three months in cruise mode, and an audible beeping woke her from cryogenic sleep. Kara was drowsy, not with it yet. The computers came back online slowly, and the bay where she slept lit with a faint light. She was cold. Yawning and rubbing at her eyes, she sat up, sweeping blonde hair out of her face. The console was flashing with an indicator for a message waiting. Can’t even wait for me to be conscious, she thought sarcastically. There were several hours to spare before there was any need to make corrective maneuvers in her ship’s course in order to dock with the atoll, so she reached for her housecoat and told the galley computer she wanted her tea. It was ready in an instant, and she held the acrylic mug in both hands, feeling the warmth promised by her favorite morning drink. Was it morning? she mused briefly. It certainly didn’t feel like it. Reading the incoming messages, Kara shook her head. They knew she was the only one inbound to them, knew that she had their precious spares aboard. Still, the bullshit. She tapped out a quick reply, and headed to get dressed, the shower on board being little more than a tight closet. Kara spent a lot of time to make sure she was as well groomed as possible, an ingrained idea that she followed on a daily basis. It was better than nothing, and she always arrived smelling much better than her male counterparts. ‘Mailers’ were a group that were different than most others. Tough. Able to weather any storm. She hadn’t even glanced out at the stars today, she suddenly thought. Something she normally loved about these long runs between humanity when Kara first took this job. As the shower door closed and sealed, the small ship sped forward, having dropped from lightspeed, gliding effortlessly through the vacuum of space…

The atoll ‘Constellation’ was a massive vessel, well over two miles in length at this point in time, and carrying almost three thousand people. Massive solar sails stood erect off the cruiser’s surface, feeding power to all of it’s internal needs. The atoll was one of several, spread throughout the galaxy, and it’s interior had become home to humankind. The hum of the ion drives could be felt even out in the coldness of space. Pinpricks of light pierced the hull, windows out on the only solace that humans had now. The bridge of the ship stood up on a spire above the main body of the hull, like an eye on it’s surroundings. The commander sat here. It had been a long day for everyone, and he sat in the command chair, reviewing the day’s logs. Food shortage. Problems with waste disposal. Electrical relays that had begun to fail. He needed those replacements, or it would soon be a dark atoll, regardless of the output of the sails. Danek put his face in his hands, tossing the tablet aside. Too much today… All of the critical systems strung together throughout the ship were showing their age, and he wondered if it wasn’t simply the sheer size of the vessel that still made it habitable at times. Today alone the power had failed on part of the concourse level, the atmosphere generators dropped their output levels, and the waste recycler had stopped for several hours. If one of the main ion drives suffered a failure, the atoll would be adrift, helplessly tumbling through space. He stood up from the command chair, walking forward to check on the sensor banks, flat screens laid out on a desk-like console. Nothing but the service drones, flying around the hull to perform inspections. He needed those spare parts. The other atolls were just as desperate, their mining and manufacturing just as taxed as the constellation. He looked up briefly, everyone was at their post. The dozen or so people still on the bridge looked at their panels, working diligently.

New Stuff!

The White Room

He had not slept again. Days and nights were the same here, after all. No changes in the amount of light, and everything was devoid of colour. For his own safety, and that of others. His room was very carefully designed, round with no edges, even the locked doorway was seamless, the lighting a harsh bright white glowing from behind translucent panels in the ceiling. Color was not a good thing for him. The table he sat at was of course entirely white. The same for his chair. A bed at the other side of the room was little more than a futon, but again, white. No color anywhere. His hair had been shaved, a precaution against him pulling any of it out and seeing it's brown strands, and he was clothed in white, a simple t-shirt and pajama pants, white pull-on sneakers and gloves. Without any mirror in this cell, he could not even look upon the color of his own eyes. He sat at the table quietly, waiting. A voice over some hidden loudspeaker had told him to do so a short while before.