Spring Awakening

Well, here it is the first of May! The sun is shining, the grass is getting greener before my eyes, and it's actually warm - 70 degrees warm. It seems as good a time as any to come out of hibernation and say hello after all these months.

The dogs celebrated May Day with their first dip of the year in the stream we cross on our daily morning walk. It's not the first time they've been swimming this season - there have been several beach walks where the lure of a stick tossed into the waves was too much to resist, despite the chill. But this was the first time that they jumped in, first thing in the morning, simply to cool off.

Meanwhile, I celebrated by taking three trays of tomato plants out from under their fluorescent lights and into the authentic sunshine in the backyard. I finished re-potting them all into bigger containers yesterday, so they were looking sturdy and ready for a field trip. (Whose idea was it to start 60 tomato plants from seed, anyway? And where on earth, in the small plot of earth allotted to me, am I going to put them all?)

Speaking of that project and about a hundred other ones, I haven't actually been hibernating this winter. It's just that, as usual, my ambitions far exceed my actual accomplishments. I had plans to document many things here. They are written on scraps of paper piled on my desk, a monument in to-do list form to all the ways I intended to spend the dark and cold months, before spring came and the sun lured me back outside with its irresistible pull.

The weather tried hard to give me an extension on my winter-term homework. We had snowstorm after snowstorm in March and well into April, wind and slush and sleet. It hasn't been rake-the-yard weather, clean-out-the-garden weather, plant-the-peas-and-spinach weather, until just this past weekend. (Which also turned out to be go-for-a-hike weather, ride-a-bike-in-funny-clothes weather, and play-yard-games-at-a-barbecue weather. It was a busy weekend, friends.) 

There were just two telltale signs of spring that clued me in a little sooner. First, a few weeks ago Maisie's nose noted something very interesting in the garden. Some investigation revealed...this. 

Right in the vegetable patch, in the little herb bed at the very center, in a hole dug beside the thyme. Any guesses? Perhaps this will give it away.

No? How about this?

Actually, it rather reminds me of this:

And surely you know what wayward little bunnies do when set loose in a vegetable garden.

However, as I'm no Farmer McGregor, they were allowed to stay.

Maisie kept up a vigil for days on end.

Incidentally, she could jump over that fence in a heartbeat, but she knows she's not allowed in the garden, so she just sat beside it, watching intently. And leaning. It seemed a more motherly vigil than a hunterly one (and given her performance with the chicks, I could almost believe it). Then, just a few days ago, the bunnies left the premises. Having done my best to keep them safe, with help (if that's what it was) from Maisie, now I just hope they found some other very nice vegetable garden to frequent in their adolescence.

While I was poking around investigating the rabbits, I noticed the second of the springtime signs. Again this year, it seems a pair of chickadees is raising a family in the nest box in the garden. They are surely more desirable garden residents than rabbits are, and I hope they're stuffing lots of juicy cutworms, grubs, and other delicious tidbits into those hungry mouths. I do love seeing them flit in and out, perching watchfully in a nearby tree whenever I'm in the garden.

And now? The garlic is up, I've spotted the first asparagus tip, the daffodil bulbs I planted last fall have opened into bright yellow splashes of cheer around the yard, and the chickens are clucking to be let out into the grass every time I pass their coop. Time to move on to my spring to-do list!

A Winter Walk

Oh, hello! It's been a while, once again. There are so many places I could begin. How about we just take a walk and catch up?
 

Here's where my morning generally starts, with a loop on our customary dog-walking route. After dashing across the busy road at the end of the block, we set off through this tunnel of trees. When the branches are all laden with snow, you'd think you were headed straight to Narnia. It has looked like this more often than not for the past few weeks. We've been having gloriously snowy weather.

My companions enjoy the snow as much as I do.

Bella Big-Tongue

Maisie Snow-Beard

At the end of the tunnel we come to this open stretch. Not Narnia after all, just a path along the powerlines.

I realize that I often edit the powerlines out of the photos I take on this route. But they are part of the story, this accessible piece of wild land so near my house and surrounded by roads and development.

I am more likely to point my camera toward this view, which looks far more remote than it actually is.

Or to zoom in on some small detail, removing the context of the wider view.

But it's hard to avoid the abundance of wires. And somehow in the stark black and white of these winter scenes, and as a straight-line contrast to all the graceful curves of the snow, the lines finally found their way into some photos. I find that I like the effect.

 

Occasionally Nick joins us for the morning walk. Here he is on one recent morning when the snow was falling fast and thick.

We continue on, skirting a marshy area that's only navigable when it's frozen and covered with a deep layer of snow. With both those conditions met, we ventured out across it a few times last week.

Nick dressed Bella for the blizzard, feeling that she should carry a few extra supplies.
Maisie, unencumbered and energized as usual, breaks trail.

Soon we emerge from the "wilderness" and carry on by way of the sidewalk. One more dash through the traffic and we're home. The house waits for us under its blanket of snow.

The chickens, meanwhile, bide their time in the snowy coop. I imagine they're dreaming of green grass and garden treats as I bring them water and toss in some scratch.

Though the frisbee is likely buried somewhere in the backyard under the previous night's snowfall, Maisie will surely find it and request some playtime before we head inside.

Hope you enjoyed the walk - it was a pleasure to have you along! Having reassured you that I have not, in fact, been spirited off to an enchanted kingdom or even just gotten buried in a snowdrift in the months since I've last posted, I'll do my best to return here soon and fill you in on a few more of the recent goings-on!