#90- Dandelions

A couple weeks ago I was walking along the Rideau Canal and to keep my eyes and mind off what was potentially floating belly up in the water a few metres from me I set my eyes upon the thousands of dandelions that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Let me tell you, it was a beautiful sight.

Yes, dandelions are weeds, but they are not the putrid green, hand pricking, soul-sucking weeds that seem to ruin your every attempt to grow a small backyard herb garden, but nice yellow sprouts lining the various paths you walk on to work or school or a Sunday evening jaunt.

Sure they have their downsides, just ask people with allergies. But at least they are nice to look at, even if you have to take your eyes off of them for a few seconds to sneeze.

To borrow a quote about another, more loved plant: "You can complain because roses have thorns or rejoice because thorns have roses."

In other words, focus more on the positives of dandelions, the beauty, the good luck they bring when you blow their seeds into the wind, etc., rather than the negatives because as much as you try, they are always going to be around.

So I am grateful for dandelions. I am grateful for the splash of amazing colour they bring to any landscape. I am grateful they defy the normal perception of a weed as awful and harsh. And I am grateful that they stand as testament to a very important lesson I have learned in my life; focus on the good in everything rather than dwelling on any of the negatives that are bound to pop up and it'll brighten your day even when it's cloudy out.

#82- Beaver Tails

I've eaten many an exotic dish, from bison roasts to crocodile nuggets and even ostrich meatballs, but one of the most delicious has got to be beaver tail.

For those not familiar with the famed beaver tails you should know two things: you should get familiar with them fast and don't worry, they aren't actually the tails of real beavers.

Really what they are is dough, stretched out into the shape of a beaver's tail and fried until golden brown and then topped with delicious toppings such as chocolate sauce and bananas or cinnamon and sugar.

So no, they wouldn't be a food featured on Body Break segments (something for those 90s kids), but they are a great bad habit once in a while.

But beaver tails are more than that. They are a Canadian delicacy (Canada: serving up horribly addictive and unhealthy fried food for more than a century). This is usually how it goes with traveling foodies: they flock from all over just to get a taste of the beaver tail, are a little disappointed that it's not real beaver and eventually leave happy with chocolate smeared all over their faces.

Beaver tails are also a staple of one of the greatest events I have ever experienced; skating on the Rideau Canal. Skating on the canal itself is amazing (the largest rink in the world!), but when the wind is blowing and you can't feel your fingers, having a nice warm beaver tail in your hands warms them up quite nicely. And you don't even have to take off your skates.

In short, beaver tails are something to enjoy and to take pride in. They are a Canadian invention, right up there with the zipper, basketball and twelve different ways to say sorry. They are delicious and certainly not nutritious. They are a tradition, a hand warmer, a conversation starter and one of the best possible ways to end off a night out with friends.

So I am grateful for beaver tails. I am grateful that we can honour one of our greatest national animals with its very own food. I am grateful for how good they taste and that I can feel better about eating them after having skated a few kilometres. I am grateful that they are so popular and awesome that the president of the United States came all the way up here just to have one (and do some other diplomatic stuff I guess). And I am grateful that I can say I've had a beaver tail before, because that's something not too many people can admit they've done.

#76- New Running Shoes

I knew something was wrong when I couldn't feel my foot.

It was after one of my morning runs last week and I had sprinted the last hundred metres, but when I stopped I nearly fell flat on my face because my right foot felt like a block of cement strapped to my leg.

I came to the conclusion, after months of denial, that my three-year-old training shoes had come to the end of their lifespan.

Those shoes had been with me through a lot. From lacing up with me as I ran down the beautiful Rideau Canal to the snow-dusted paths on campus and the goose-filled park near my house in Toronto.

But they were starting to become a pain in the Achilles Tendon.

So I made the trip to the running store over the weekend to find myself a pair of trainers that wouldn't have me hobbling around.

And after a few solid runs in my new shoes I love them.

They are snug, comfortable and even make me look good while I run down the streets (although I may be a bit delusional about that last bit as I frequently envision myself running in epic slow motion with the soundtrack from Chariots of fire in the background).

But really, they are a great pair of shoes that allow me to go out and get some exercise (those Beaver Tails can really weigh on a guy), explore my community, soak up the great weather we've been having here (no really, there is such a thing as good weather in Ottawa) and most importantly do something I love; run.

Running has been a part of my life for a really long time. It's something I've done with friends, family and in my own peaceful world. It's something that keeps me active and challenges me and makes me feel a natural high (I try reminding myself of this point when I'm cursing a particularly long hill or a stiff breeze coming in my direction as I run). My shoes help me do all this. They are the vehicle for this activity in my life that brings so much happiness.

So I am grateful for my new running shoes. I am grateful they allow me to run comfortably and safely and  give me the chance to do something that is good for my body and mind. I'm grateful I have them as a tool to challenge me in new ways and hopefully make myself a better person.

#62-Autumn Leaves

Autumn leaves are nature's gift that keeps on giving.

Sadly I'm not talking about the Toronto Maple Leafs, who seem to be giving in to other teams every other game, but the leaves that are metamorphisizing, dancing and falling all over the place right now.

The other day I was looking out from the quad of my university along the Rideau Canal, I saw the trees lining the water waving their branches like flags of a dozen proud nations. All had different colours, different hues of red, orange, brown, yellow and green, like the trees had suddenly decided that with the sun deciding to sleep less and less these days that it was up to them to be vibrant and colourful.

It was a sight to see, but it wasn't just each individual tree that caught my eye, sparked my imagination and slowed my pace, but the way each tree covered in beautiful colours came together to create a huge living canvas right in front of me. I guess the individual trees coming together to create an amazing, hopeful and inspiration event could teach us all something about ourselves too.

But the leaves don't just stop there. One of my favourite smells in the entire world is the smell of fallen leaves when autumn comes around. It is the smell that reminds me of Thanksgiving turkey and mashed potatoes, of family sitting around the living room talking and laughing and of friends reminiscing about old memories while sipping on some nice pumpkin beer. Most of all it reminds me that falling down isn't always the worst thing that can happen.

So I am grateful for autumn leaves. For the beauty in their colours, the joy in their smell and the lessons they can teach.