Monday, June 25, 2012

The Gray's Visit

We love all our guests!  Mr and Mrs Gray however stand out among our favourites for all they teach us about the wildlife around us - flowers and animals that we might walk by without ever seeing. 

This spring we learned about mocassin flowers and moths. 

Here are some photos that they kindly shared with us from their visit in June. 

Moccasin Flower-Algonquin

Adam in camouflage viewing wildlife

Luna Moth Front Door

Moose Wolf Howl Pond

Polyphemus Moth - Arowhon Pines

Painted Turtle (oval) and Snapping Turtle (round) eggs - Algonquin

Friday, June 22, 2012

New York City - Algonquin Park

We don’t get many guests who walk in “off the street”.  But these two guests were amazing!

Heiko Schreiber and his son Bennet from Bayreuth, Germany drove 10 hours straight from NYC (in their gorgeous Ford Mustang rental) because they wanted to see "a little bit of nature". 

We did not disappoint them.  Although they only had a night to spare, they rose earlty (5 AM!) and saw the mist on the lake and a moose feeding on the shoreline.  After a hearty breakfast in the dining room, they explored more of the surrounding area (I do think they took a mid-morning nap)...

We were very sad to see them leave - another 10 hours to New York!  So when you think that a three hour drive from Toronto is too long to have a midweek-getaway, just remember the two of them!  

Here are some photos from their stay. Thank you Heiko and Bennet - we hope to see you both again!

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Photos from Spring

Some photos from Arowhon Pines

Painted Turtles on our grounds:
While it is known that the survival rate of Painted Turtles is very high what is unknown is how long they will live. It is theorized that Painted Turtles may live up to 300 years and some of the turtles in the Algonqui Park study ponds could be easily a 100 years or more. To date, no reliable method of aging turtles has been developed. The only known method is to mark hatchling turtles as they emerge from the nest - the Park researchers are doing that now. 
You can talk to them near Wolf Howl Pond.

New appetizers and entrees
are coming out of our kitchen daily!

Renovations continue in the cabins.....

New bathroom renovations in our larger cabins.....

The view from your table in the dining room....

A cozy room in our larger cabins

We look forward to welcoming you soon!

Sunday, June 3, 2012

My Day Off

The "day off" - the most treasured day of the week for anyone working in the seasonal resort business.  For me, I always enjoy it best when I have a plan. 

Last Sunday, I was determined to find the "unmarked grave" near Canoe Lake.  I recently read "Northern Light' by Roy MacGregor and watched the documentary "West Wind".  All this information had been buzzing in my head for months - and no, smartypants, it wasn't just the mosquitoes!       

I left mid-morning on my bike (a sleep-in is allowed on a day off) with an Arowhon picnic lunch and camera in my pack.  I shamefully admit eating the cookies before reaching the Crossroads.  I turned right, then left just past the second wooden bridge.  I knew that I needed to follow this small dirt road to another path and then there would be the grave. 

There are a few pretty cottages along this road.  At the first fork in the road, just past the green outhouse with the charming crescent moon on the door, I stayed to the right - then stayed right again at the next fork (is anyone else thinking the Muppet Movie?).  I admit feeling a little nervous at not having brought my GPS, when I stopped, got off my bike and looked around. 

A medium sized birch tree - the only white one around, drew my attention.  When  I looked beyond that tree, I could see, about 50 feet down the road, a small path leading into the bush. I left my bike and slowly walked along the path into the woods and past some clearings, where one hundred years ago people would have been busy working, fishing, visiting friends and just living.  It felt eerie.  Then, there it was, a small area, surrounded by a picket fence, containing two grave stones and an old tree.  Outside the fence was a simple, white, unmarked cross, which according to some, is the lonely grave of Tom Thomson.       

I respectfully inspected everything, took some photos and spent a few quiet moments thinking about what I had read, heard and saw. 

A little later I left, biked to the lake where I ate my lunch peacefully, gazing out at the shorelines and trees.  I imagined Tom Thomson doing the same thing in this exact spot.  Although a hundred years apart, I see what inspired him every summer day.