Grey skies and blue bird

I was supposed to be going for a walk with Joe this afternoon. We cancelled.

When I first got up on the roof on Friday, it was a beautiful day – more like August than September, which almost made me feel as if I was actually getting this August job done in August.

Yesterday, when I climbed the ladder once again, not so much. No sunshine on my bared arms. No bared arms. Oh, the sun was there all right. It just couldn’t penetrate the smoke from the wildfires in the western US which has drifted north to fill the skies of southern British Columbia.

According to the Vancouver Sun yesterday, “Vancouver and Portland were listed as having the worst air quality on Saturday because of the smoke from the wildfires in the U.S.”

Yeah, the haze is pretty bad. Normally you can easily see the coastal mountain range from here. Not yesterday. Not today. But as bad as Portland?

This is what the sky in Portland looks like.

This is what the sky looks like in Vancouver. Which is pretty much what it looks like here. Spot the difference. It’s not orange.

How can the air quality be as bad here as it is in Portland?

Or in San Francisco?

Seems dubious to me, but there is no question the air quality is bad. So no walk for Joe and me today.

Probably just as well. After two afternoons of sweeping and bending and scraping and perching tensely at the edge of the roof, I ache all over. Yet another reminder that I ain’t as young as I used to be.

There was one very bright spot yesterday morning. When I was sitting here writing about being up on the roof I could hear some unidentifiable noises coming from outside. Went out to investigate.

Yes! A Steller’s jay was at the peanut feeder. He/she was the first one I’ve seen this year. Shifted the feeder to the clothesline so he/she didn’t have to swoop in under the umbrella to access it in front of the kitchen window. Then came back in to fetch my camera.

She/he wouldn’t go near the feeder while I was outside, but you can spot him/her in the tree branch waiting for me to come back inside.

Hope he/she’s gone off to tell all her/his friends about the feeder, because watching these guys descend on the feeder is one of my favourite things. My bluebirds of happiness.