After a full workday, with the sun dipping low and shining its warm golden light across the city, the pull of nature was impossible to ignore. At 4:00 p.m., I practically scaddled out the door, birding was calling me. I had zero expectations. I just wanted fresh air, a moment of quiet, and the simple joy of being out with Finnegan. So I grabbed my camera, hopped in the car, picked up my Aunt, and the three of us set off for a quick evening birding drive. With the early winter

I didn’t set out to go birding today—not on a dense, fog-heavy fall afternoon where the world felt muffled and quiet. All I meant to do was run a quick mid-day errand and grab an iced coffee. That was it. But then I decided to take the scenic way home, and that one small choice opened a door I didn’t even realize I was walking through. Of course, I didn’t have my camera. Classic. So I raced home—15 minutes flat—and came right back. By then, the flock of grebes I’d initially s

Today felt like a gift — gloriously sunny, warm, and shining with that soft November light that feels completely out of place but wonderfully welcomed. My Aunt and I packed up Finnegan in his little adventure backpack (his new favourite chariot of choice), and with no plans other than joy itself, we headed out to go ducking. What’s ducking, you ask? Simply put — it’s the art of spending time with ducks. Of wandering from pond to pond, park to park, just to see who has returne