So, plucking the haws, that’s the easy part. But they’re freaking ornamental haws, right, and they have weird stem bits. And even without stem things they’re too, gasp, cough cough, wheeze, big. […]
So, plucking the haws, that’s the easy part. But they’re freaking ornamental haws, right, and they have weird stem bits. And even without stem things they’re too, gasp, cough cough, wheeze, big. […]
Siya? is budding out now. Poplar has put winter behind her. We are looking into the distance now. Together. Together! We are on the move!
One of the great things you get to do as a porcupine is drag your big tail full of hair and quills behind you in the snow. Carving it. The wind does […]
Today, the winter’s birds decided to celebrate the sun in the same trees and the same hill at the same time. There were thousands. The waxwings kept to themselves, the hawk wanted […]
It’s a great day to be a bohemian waxwing! (But walking among them is pretty fine, too.)
Maps are power. We could look at the hill in the snow. And map the slope angles and relationships of the hill (not the contours but flat planes), or those parts that […]
There’s a little bit of modern science that speaks for randomness, and an exquisite branch of mathematics that calculates it, and yet, as red osier dogwood points out, it’s not right. Rowan […]
We’ve had a visitor for a couple weeks now, a northern shrike from the high plateau. It’s very inquisitive, yet shy. No way am I going to get closer than 70 metres. […]
The hawks don’t even have to ask. Just Another Day of Irony In Canada
High up on the hill… …Porcupine leaves his hideaway… … with a trudge trudge trudge… … in the middle of the night … … on both sides of the gully … … […]