There was a glint of sun in the sky this morning so I left early for a walk through Beacon Hill Park. The entire park smells of Island manure, that sharp, tangy, pungent odor that registers much higher in the sinuses that the cow manure you get on the prairies. Chicken and horse, perhaps? Mushrooms? I don't know. Anyway, it's being spread by the truckload all over the park and throughout the neighbourhood. It's helpful, but quite unpleasant compared to back home. I breathe it in easily, but not with gusto.
The beauty of Beacon Hill is the mix of highly manicured, formal British garden and the areas that are left wild and natural (partially natural at least -- I'm sure folks have had a hand in it over the past century.) The birds take to the natural bits, and I stood a long time by the bushes surrounding the Tall Totem. It was full of birds and birdsong. I stayed long enough to pull apart the songs and begin identifying individual birds. I don't know who is who, but there were 4-5 different songs going on. It was lovely.