Day by day the long, cold winter has parted. I don’t remember a winter that in my mind has dragged on as this past winter has. Perhaps it’s my age, or it could be that I am now dwelling in an area where the winters are just a little bit colder. Having been a stone cottage dweller for the past 10 years, snuggled centre urban in the valley of the Grand River has perhaps spoiled me. We definitely did not hear or get the strong winds that we experience here in the hills.
On the other hand, I do get to see the stars at night, big and bright. From my window, I can watch the sun breaking dawn as it slowly rises up over the hoar-frosted tree line beyond the back 40. In the evening, from the porch, I watch beautiful sunsets, glistening snow, and full moon. These are things that I really didn’t miss until such time as they became once again available. And the water’s purity here in this area is really beyond belief. Fluoride- and chlorine-saturated drinking water has never been included with my loves.
Ambling to the barn the other morning, though too far away for identity, I watched a large bird rise up from the mature woodlands that corner the farm, barely flapping a wing as it started to rise. It was attacked again and again by a pair of crows as it circled without a wing flap higher and higher. It was probably one of the carrion eaters, but it seems a little too early for the local turkey vultures to be back from the sunny south, leaving my thoughts dangling on the possibility of it being an eagle, as they have been known to brave the coldest winters.
Having popped into the barn for a few minutes to bottle-feed a couple of calves and a triple number of black-faced lambs left me staring at a lone coyote when I came out. I watched it; it watched me, and then skirted the hillside crossing the valley. He seemed not in a hurry, cocking his leg, marking territory, then continued in a slow lope.
I tried to encourage our house dog, Foxy, to make chase, but she just gave me a disgusted, knowing look and headed for her sunny spot on the porch. I strongly suspect she had tangled with them before, quite likely outnumbered, as I have seen tracks in the snow of five that run in a pack.
I was soon to learn what had brought the coyote close to the buildings during broad daylight. He was making the rounds of his fast-food outlets. A groundhog popped its head up from a hole in the snow, whistled a time or two, standing completely upright as it turned to look in all directions. I turned to wave Foxy in its direction, but it disappeared the moment she crested the lingering snow bank.
Though the snowbirds at my feeder had left for the north several days ago, I have seen a couple pairs of horned larks flitting from bare patch to bare patch.
Their return from the sunny south is always early, and I have, during younger years, found them snuggled on eggs, with a snow cap haloed above them. Needless to say, I have reason to believe that spring is really here. What do you think?
Take care, ‘cause we care.
barrie@barriehopkins.ca
519-986-4105