In water, everything is stupid.

Just like humans (the Andean Bear's closest relatives), when you submerge an Andean Bear in water for too long, it gets all pruney and gross and reduces in size by 300%. Just like humans. The Andean Bear is the last remaining short-faced bear in all of North America. Probably South America, too. Actually, let's just say it's the last one all over. Except for maybe really deep down in the ocean. I don't even know what kind of shit is down there. Being the last of the short-faced bears, it was heart breaking to see another one fall victim to the harsh elements we face in the city during summer. Sweltering asphalt, humidity reaching unbearable highs, extremely strong winds, puddles, clouds. Terrifying. You'd think they would just migrate like all the other bears to the North Pole for the summer. Scientists have proven these to be the dumbest bears in the whole world. This one, for example, tried to retrieve a pine cone from a puddle no more than 1/2" deep and drowned. Not only are Andean Bears extremely allergic to pine cones, but who the fuck drowns in a puddle that's half an inch deep? Idiot. I found this little guy in the gutter on my street, just outside of the North York Forest. I'm currently stuffing it's head with hay and covering it's tongue in super-glue so I can throw him up on a plaque on my wall. It's illegal to have one of these, seeing as how they're endangered, but I just can't pass up this beautiful specimen. SCIENCE! I mean, NATURE!

a wretched hive of scum and villany

My Nature Brother and I were walking late one night recently, and we came upon some exotic Japanese tree demons, who threatened our very sanity. Their salty words initially drew us in with the promises they offered, but we soon saw through the ruse, and continued on our path. Keep this in mind should one of these oni try to intefere with your home, the only recourse is to set everything ablaze . Good luck!

That being said, we can be glad it wasn't a Basan, which resembles a large, ghost-fire breathing chicken. Who needs shit like that?

Fuck you, goat.

Wanna know why this fucking bird is dead? Cause he's not an eagle, that's why. You think a fucking eagle would just lay there and take it like a bitch? Hell no! I saw this video on youtube once where this fucking eagle flies over and picks up a goat by the ass, drops it off a cliff, then flies down and eats the mother FUCK outta it. Yeah, that's right... off a mother fucking cliff. If you're wondering why this bird has a cigarette, it's because I fucking gave him one. NATURE!!!!!!

A return to greatness!

It was a Wednesday much like the one we first decided to embark on our literary adventure, and the Nature brothers we back in the wilds of Parkdale for sustenance, both for body and soul. After dining at the exotically named Island Foods, where we ate coconuts, we bravely said goodbye to our brother Rick, as he entered a world of deep cover, surrounding himself with toys and feeding stuffs designed to pacify the beast he keeps at home to maintain the edge we all need to survive out here. I think he's told me the creature secretes a toxin, or venom, if you will, which he mixes with milk to strengthen his constitution. I honestly believe this elixer, whatever it's compounds, does nothing to dilute the valor that courses through him.
So, down to two, we struggle to find some direction in the rest of our day, and decide a day spent ingesting large quantities of sugar would be a grand day indeed. Renewed and comforted by our new sense of purpose, we seek out a suitable establishment to fulfill our requirements.

Suffice to say, it was a long, complex journey, testing our souls at times, twisting us up and pulling us through a maze of back roads, until we weren't sure that the parking lot we knew from previous visits was even the same one we found before us. Only when we thought all we knew was lost to us, we gained egress to a food purveyor of enviable size, and with a righteous sense of drive, we went as birds returning to summer feeding grounds, north to the pastry counter, and with much deliberation, choose a mousse-laden chocolate cake confection. We return to the outdoors, at which we feel more at home in, to devour our new acquisition. Awash in nature, we sang like lusty Vikings as we used the tools we sequestered from a different section of the market to render the conquest complete.
Oh, there was even a coupon saving us three dollars on the transaction, glory was ours indeed!

Not so tough now, are you?

It was a full Nature vs nature battle today, with a chance encounter on Queen Street West between Rick, Joe, and myself and a slew of angry, vengence-addled pigeons.  (See, I recognize some species)

I won't bore you, but as we had a food court to attend, the inevitable showdown was postponed to a future date, to the satisfaction of no one.  Rest assured, if nature calls us out, we will answer, but we're not looking for anything other than adventure.  And toys.  And a decent food court.

(Wendy, where was that A&W again?)

That abnormal beast that was lurking outside my window has been identified, thanks to a bird-admiring friend and famous person, whom I will not be namedropping here, as a red-tailed bird. I believe, although he didn't specifically say (there was a delicious container of coffee to get to, after all), it was a hawk, a close relative of the owl family. Obviously, you can understand my confusion, as a result of the duress I was subjected to by this invasion of the space I had previously only shared with teenage raccoons doing what teenaged raccoons do. Noisily. I hope this bird eats them, and goes back to where ever it comes from, before property values go down even further.

With our expertise and interest in the natural environs surrounding us, my brothers Joe and Nick and I have decided to embark on a grand adventure, sharing the glory of the wilderness that surrounds us every day! Join us regularly to see the wonders that the natural world has to offer us.
For my own part, I'd like to dedicate the blog to the spirit of two gentlemen whose spirit infuses my love and fear of the living planet I find myself on. So, thanks and much love to Marlon Perkins and Mark Trail.