Living Sky

The thing about living in the outskirts

of small town Saskatchewan is

you can't beat the sunrises in the dead of winter.

Every morning it happens.

The darkness gives way to light.

The blackness makes room for

flaming reds and oranges.

The skies open up as the sun slowly

turns night time into day.



And though the days are short

and the trees and fields are bare,

there is no shortage of beauty here

in the Land of the Living Sky.

A Tiger Can't Change Its Stripes

My mother often tells the story of when I was a little girl. It was the dead of winter and although I have heard it many times, I cannot remember how old I was. Three? Maybe four? She tells the story of how she was outside with me for hours and she was chilled to the bone and yet I never wanted to come inside. After she could stay out no longer she brought me in where I would cry my little heart out, still dressed in my snow suit, and lie in the back porch, just wishing to be back outside in the snow. Skip ahead forty years later and the same story can still be told except now I can stay out longer if I want to.

I am a winter person. Always have been, always will be. I love it when the temperatures drift below freezing. I check the weather forecast and hope for snow.

How else can you tell which little animals have visited your yard as you slumbered? Did a coyote run nearby or a deer walk past the driveway? I recall, when I lived in Northern Alberta for one winter, the wonder I felt walking to the post box following in the footsteps of a mule deer who had passed this very way just a few hours ago. Or did a squirrel try to steal seed from the bird feeder even though you left hazelnuts out in a pile in the back yard?

These familiar mouse tracks leading up to the pile of seeds that someone left behind (shh!) and then leading into the garage door. Oops. We won't tell Daddy.

Recently we have been doing a lot more hiking. The snow has been minimal but the temperatures are well above normal. This makes for warm windy days and much more time outside in the natural world.

We are fortunate enough to live on the outskirts of a small prairie town. Just a few steps to the open fields and tree stands. We live a short 15 minute drive to a Provincial Park with nature trails, a beach and some nice canoeing waters. Its the getting dressed and getting out there which is the hardest part but when we do... its just the best!

We do things we've never done. We see things we've never seen. We experience the joy of the natural world. In the book I have been reading for months now (Meditations from the Mat) the author, who is now a Christian Yogi says that if the God of your childhood doesn't work for you anymore, find a new God. In my time communing with Nature I have found my god.

And this year my intention for communing with my god is to visit often, even when I don't feel like making the effort. It is always worth it and I am always glad I went out. My hope is to pass this spiritual experience on to my little girl. I want to show her the wonder of a beautiful sunrise. I want her to hear the melody of birdsong and wonder at the way the seasons change. So far I think it is working. She can find joy in the simple things.

In contrast to this overstimulated, over consuming, over everything world we live in, I choose to honor this love of the outdoors that lives inside me. I will notice the little things. I will be attentive to the subtle shift of light that changes with the seasons. I intend to appreciate that which is right in front of me if I will just be still and notice.

And here is a cow. Just because I thought her cute.

How Does Your Garden Grow? (Edited)

As you can tell, I just read The Secret Garden. I have still yet to find out if the Nursery Rhyme was written before the book or if the book inspired the Nursery rhyme.

Mistress Mary

Quite contrary,

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells and

Pretty maids all in a row.

Like many nursery rhymes, it has acquired various historical explanations. These include:
That it is a religious allegory of Catholicism, with bells representing the sanctus bells, the cockleshells the badges of the pilgrims to the shrine of Saint James in Spain (Santiago de Compostela) and pretty maids are nuns, but even within this strand of thought there are differences of opinion as to whether it is lament for the reinstatement of Catholicism or for its persecution.[1]
Another theory sees the rhyme as connected to Mary I of Scotland, with "how does your garden grow" referring to her reign over her realm, "silver bells" referring to (Catholic) cathedral bells, "cockle shells" insinuating that her husband was not faithful to her, and "pretty maids all in a row" referring to her ladies-in-waiting - "The four Maries".[1]

My garden has been growing well. Finally. More pictures to follow.

The flowers are blooming. The vegetables are getting taller by the day.

And today, oh joy, the first Morning Glory bloomed.

Moon flowers are sure to follow soon.

But to me, summer is not summer until I smell the fragrance of Stock, evening scented and otherwise, wafting on the evening breeze.

Ah, sweet summer.

The Gift

Over the years Paul has given me some wonderful gifts. The ones that stand out to me are not what you would think.

I have received jewellery, fancy schmancy kitchen stuff, flowers, chocolates. All the usual suspects.

Some of my best gifts have been binoculars, organic wheat flour, (way back when it wasn't in vogue) a handmade bird house from a second hand shop from far far away and a old farmhouse radio.

This gift he just gave me was right up there with the others. He stopped on his way back from a business trip, dressed in business attire, alongside a farmer's field and collected the necessary ingredients. He came home, assembled it and led me to the front yard to see it. I couldn't be happier with the result.

It turned out just perfect, don't you think?

And Again

Lest you think that the story of my little Snow White was a one time happening, I bring you Snow White the 2nd.

She has such a heart for little creatures. Especially birds and (gasp) bugs. As soon as she hears a little, or big, bird hit the window, she is out there. She has to protect them from the Tom cats. She has to heal their little wings. She has no choice.

In an effort to stop the 'bird hitting the windows' thing, I installed a stick to the window bird feeder. It has stopped the number of birds smacking their beaks but not entirely. What else can we do?

PS I am not going to put up those sticky outlines of falcons on the windows either.

Wind

The Wind

I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!

I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song.

O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song.


Robert Louis Stevenson


Wind is the order of the day around here. Three days running. Long sustained winds. Gusting harder, faster, colder.

My little seedlings are battered and blown. Wilting and weary. They are longing for the sun and the light warm breezes. Still it blows and blows and blows...

Wet as Water

As you know, it has been cool in Saskatchewan. Very cool for this time of year. I have only planted my root crops so far and my bedding plants are quickly outgrowing their containers. We have been kept indoors more that I would like with rain, snow and the gale force winds that have been battering us at every turn.

The sun came up for a brief while yesterday after supper so I suggested a walk. We all bundled up and yes, I wore my long down filled coat, and headed out the door.

The sunshine had warmed the moist air and the wind had died down enough for the weather to be quite pleasant. Cool still at about 5 degrees Celsius, but nice enough.

We walked down to the deserted golf course by the pond. Deserted only because of the weather.

Much to our surprise we found a pair of Canada Geese and their 4 goslings. Another nesting pair who were NOT happy about us looking in the bulrushes for their nest. There was also a pair of mallard ducks too. No ducklings and no nest to be seen either. I also saw an otter swimming in the water. When I got close enough to look he took a dive under the water and did not resurface while I stood there.

Athena and I have been hearing the frogs in the evening and so have been looking for tadpoles to bring home in a jar. Of course, when you are looking for tadpoles you have to get very near the water. Very near. So near that even though it is 5 degrees outside and you have your winter parka on and sandals on your feet, (what? I hate socks) that your feet slip out from under you and you land right in the water. Then you are lying there up to your thighs in murky dugout water that is freezing cold and you can't get out because you are laughing so hard at yourself.

Your worried husband runs to you and grabs your arms and pulls you out. Still you are laughing.
Yes, this happened to me yesterday and my bum is a little tender today and I still think it was funny.

I am glad we went.

Snow White

My little Snow White

Truly she is. She loves animals. Loves them. Birds too.

She can identify a bird by its song. She is even learning male and female, or boy and girl as she likes to call them.

We live in the country. Well, in a small, small town of 900 people. We get a lot of birds. Some just pass through on their long journeys north or south. Some stay all summer, some stay all year. We also have 3 large windows on the front of our house and several times a day hear the tell tale sound of a bird hitting the window. No fatalities this year or last. Yet.

Well just yesterday a little Thrush hit the window and rested a while just under the window. Of course little Snow White had to rush out to protect him from the many Tom Cats that run around this small town of ours. She slowly walked up to him, talking quietly, and put her little hand out for him.

He peeped a few times and then he was in her hand. A dream come true for Athena. She held him for a minute then he jumped on her arm and flew to the safety of one of our large pine tree. One of her best days ever. I attach a few pictures of this story and a less appealing "snow white" story that happened today. May 14!!

Signs of Spring

Yes, it is almost mid May. But we live in Saskatchewan, see?

Yesterday was a beautiful, beautiful day. High of 23 degrees Celsius. That is about 74 for those of you in the US.

Athena and I were naturally outdoors for most of the day. We gathered dandelions from the neighbors yard of course. My Love would not allow a patch to grow on his lawn, that is for sure. And naturally we made a dandelion crown for little Miss A. She thought I was amazing to have such skills in crown making!

I also walked around the yard looking for any new growth. The pictures tell the story. I look at the pictures of the blogs of women in Madison, Wisconsin, Wenatchee, Washington and Fairy Glen, Oregon, and I know we are far, far behind. But still I see there is some evidence that spring is to come.

And yet... today it snowed.

Black Bird Blues

So, what does one do when a bird hits the front window and is stunned? Take pictures of course.

A Boat-tailed Grackle is one of my very least favorite birds. It is in the blackbird family and has a horrid song, if one can call it a song. They are bothersome and loud. Their eyes are beady and yellow. But just look at this guys colors!

I suppose he has to have one thing going for him, no?





PS For those interested, he did get up and fly away about an hour later. Athena stayed with him to make sure no cats got him.