Just like the bunny

While foraging at a thrift shop I unearthed a little crewel kit, circa 1979. It seemed the perfect time to try something new.  I washed the small bundles of wool and let them air dry in case moths had wandered by and taken a bite or two.  They had but only half heartedly.  

It was so much fun to stitch!

I made a few tweaks. I replaced the pink wool supplied for the berries with navy and burgundy: blackberry colors.  And turned four flowers destined to be yellow petalled, into white trilliums.  I thought that seemed more wild and woodsy.  Just like the bunny.  

Just shy

Are raccoons reclusive, or just shy?

Delicate as breath

“Why do you think butterflies fly like that?” I ask my granddaughter as a white butterfly zigzags overhead.  “I don’t know,” she says, pondering.  “It makes them more noticeable.” It does! And I love that about butterflies. They ride the breeze, delicate as breath, strong as a heartbeat, silent as light. 

They may be silent but they say quite clearly, “ I’m here! No, here! Hey! Up here! Good-bye!”

Sociable squirrel

 As my granddaughter dashed down the driveway with the recycle bin, a squirrel dashed beside her, branch to branch. When she stopped, the squirrel stopped. When she pressed on, thus did the squirrel. 

This morning as we hurried to the car, the squirrel was watching us.  Down the tree trunk it scrambled, black eyes locking with ours. 

Such a sociable squirrel.

synchronized

Traffic slowed to a sputter and then pressed pause. Off to the right in a shade spangled yard, two squirrels sat like bookends. Only their tails moved, ruffled by the afternoon wind. Then in unison, with synchronized motion, they began sampling chestnuts.

bundle of blank

I  pounced on a bundle of blank cards at the thrift shop. They are such a wonderful color, brown like paper bags, embossed, and have nice heavy envelopes. Be still my heart!!
The embossed part seemed the only negative until I had one in my hand and colored pencils in the other.
Wood grain!!
I felt like I was drawing on wood!
What better subject for wood, than a horse.
This card is mixed-media.
I've always wanted to say that.
It is colored pencil, watercolor pencil, and felt pen.

oh no

We were heading out to walk in a nearby field while a cat was apparently heading back.
A big orange cat.
Its step was brisk.
Its head high.
In its mouth it held....?
Was it a fat mouse for dinner?
My husband said he thought for a moment that the cat was carrying a kitten, but realized with horror that it had a grip on something, a death grip.
We both exclaimed at the same time.
"Oh no!"
"How sad!"
"Oh no, not a baby bunny!"
Dinner in for the cat.
Tragedy for the bunny.

It seemed especially sad because just the day before, while weeding in the yard, my husband suddenly appeared beside me. "Come quick," he had whispered.
"Why?" I said skeptically.
"Just come," he added, his voice urgent.
"What is it," I asked suspiciously, hesitantly following.
And oh my, there in a tiny little space was a tiny little rabbit.
Oh it was the tiniest little bunny I had ever seen.
It would have fit so nicely on the palm of my hand.
We summoned the grandchildren who each crept as close as could be and peered down into the brown eyes.
They raced off and returned with snippets of carrot.
The baby made a tiny hop under a fern and we were parents crowing over a babies first step.
So sweet and tiny.
Soft and wild.
Be careful little one.
Stay under our hydrangea and keep in the shadow of the fern.   

so mysterious

We walked in Jackman Wetlands again this afternoon. Turns out another jaunt at Jackman is another close encounter with a snake. What??!!!
I never thought of spring and snakes as somehow entwined, no pun intended, but I guess spring puts many creatures on the move, out of their winter condos.
As we sauntered up the rock strewn path, a woman and her Labrador puppy were heading towards us.
"She saw her first snake," the woman said, smiling.
"Oh," I said, my eyes widening. "Did it scare her?"
"Oh, yes! She was SO scared. She jumped straight into the air and turned sideways," the woman exclaimed.
"It must be instinctive," I suggested, wondering to myself how that could be.
The woman nodded emphatically and told us a little story.
Several years before, they had gone on a trip into the states and taken their other dog, who was about four at the time. It had never seen an alligator, having lived here in Canada. They stopped at a building with a cement alligator out front. As they walked toward it, the dog spotted the sculpture and abruptly stopped, pulling back in obvious fear. The woman thinking to show her pet that there was nothing to be afraid of, walked ahead and lifting her foot, placed it against the side of the alligator. The dog began to bark hysterically and tried to pull her away with all its might. Was that somehow instictive too. How would a Canadian dog know that the likeness of an alligator represented something dangerous?
So mysterious.

pretty confident

Fight or flight or fright?
Probably none of the above. City squirrels are pretty confident.

cute rats

As we hurried across the grass towards the parking lot, a squirrel seemed to be hurrying across the grass towards us!
Closer and closer it bounded until it was nearly at our feet, eyes locked on ours. Then standing on its hind legs it gazed hopefully up.
My co-worker spoke suddenly from just behind me. "I'm sort of scared of them," she said hesitantly.
"They're really just cute rats," I said by way of seeing her point of view.
Moments later as I sat behind the steering wheel looking right and left and back and forth before backing out of my parking spot, a small rabbit glanced mildly my way whilst thoughtfully chewing a long strand of grass just where I had walked moments before.
I wound down the windows of my car and joined the traffic pouring out of Abbotsford towards the freeway.
As I skimmed along past a marshy parkway, a squadron of Canadian Geese flying in very tight formation overhead was lowering landing gear. A flash of tail feather and wing and they were banking to the right, dropping down out of sight behind me.
I was reminded of the story of the Country Mouse and the City Mouse and the amazing way animals make themselves at home even as what is city and what is country blur.

no one minds

Coffee brewing.
Or cookies baking.
Or crisping bacon.
These are things no one minds smelling while stirring in bed, contemplating the day ahead.
But not......skunk.
My sister inhaled the cool morning air.
What?!
Did she really smell a skunk?
How baffling.
The furnace came on with a hum and "it was like a skunk was suddenly standing on the end of her bed!"
Back went the covers and up she sprang, following her nose.
She eventually peered out the front door into a frosty, February morning.
Her snow filled yard told the whole story.
A skunk had wandered along the side of her house.
There were its tracks.
The neighbors dog must have barked just as the skunk reached the corner right beside the cold air intake for the furnace.
Sherlock Holmes couldn't have solved the mystery faster.
Case closed.

suv

 This horse was my grandparents sport utility vehicle, a used one with pretty high mileage, but good tires and a reliable engine. He was named Tommy and he did try to head back to his previous owner a province away a few times. That was just til he settled in though. Til he got used to the idea of being a family vehicle. A take the kids to school and pull the plough through the potato patch sort of vehicle. An early crossover I guess.

 This pair were my grandfather's work trucks. Grandpa was self employed or they might have been seen as a company benefit. They were pretty versatile and hauled logs out of the woods better than any skidder. Two horse power might not sound like much, but they were greater than the sum of their parts I can tell you. Huge, strong, reliable, loyal, gentle.

 My great uncle Lloyd is about to ease on down the road. Likely hunting was his plan of action. My grandfather is giving last minute instructions or possibly consulting the GPS for directions. Leather seats, four on the floor, all wheel drive, lots of pull when the road got steep.

 My great grandpa R.C.Ray was known as a horseman. He knew horses. I expect he passed along a few tidbits to those with ears to listen. His son is standing rather proudly beside a horse that can simply be described as huge. I don't imagine mileage was great because a horse that size would eat you out of house and home. Wouldn't have won a beauty contest either with a face only a mother could love, but what a silken nose he had. And feathered feet!! And such a sleek coat and sober, steadfast eyes. Sign me up.

startled

Our boots crunched there way through the grainy crust of mauve snow.  Ahead, rabbit tracks, looking like startled faces in the snow followed pathways only rabbits see.

especially

Always watch out for jay walkers.
Especially small ones.
Especially four legged pedestrians.

Winding up the hill from River Road, the woods press in.
Trees lean.
Undergrowth is dark and deep.

He didn't even pause.
Just dove onward.
Little rippling weasel.
He seemed to glide onto the road like a ribbon pulled by some invisible hand.

I tried not to brake too hard or swerve.
Safety first, right?
I squinted and held onto the steering wheel, my eyes unable to avoid the rear view mirror.

Oh, there he was.
Safe and sound.
He'd run in a circle like a wind up toy and was heading for the far side of the road now.
Rippling over the grassy verge.
Gone from sight into the tangle of blackberry.

how startling

You'll never believe what I saw on my way to work.
I could hardly believe my eyes.
I actually cried out in surprise.
There it was silhouetted against the gray sky near the top of a giant tree.
Way, way, way up in an old cottonwood..
Too big for the branch it huddled on, it nervously waved a paw in the air as if trying to flag down help.
Call 911.
Call the Fire Department.
Call the SPCA. 

It was a raccoon.
A very tense raccoon, clutching a branch high overhead.
It looked so out of place.
A big round ball of fur like an oversized Christmas ornament.
The branch it clung to seemed fearfully small.
What would have made a full grown raccoon climb for its life.
No dog in sight.
No people.
My car sped on but the raccoon remained firmly fixed on memories big screen.

That evening, the news reported a missing wallaby in the Langley area. A pet wallaby from the other side of the world.
It apparently hopped away.
Sprang off into the unknown.
How startling for our native wildlife.
To be ambling along, nibbling here and sniffing there to glance up at approaching footfall. Bounding footfall.
Stranger danger!
A tall tree could seem a necessity.

terrified

"We went to the store where you just look at things," my granddaughter says casually, by way of making conversation. "And they have animals there that are like statues."
"Oh," I muse,  a light dawning. "Cabala's. Yes, they have many animals don't they?"
She nods soberly. "One was looking at me Gramma and I was terrified." I hug her a little tighter. "It had hair all over," she says. "And I didn't know what it was," she adds, her eyes wide.
"Goodness," I exclaim. "Was it a bear?"
"Gramma," she says, "I know what a bear is."
"Oh, yes, yes of course," I murmur, "Was it a cougar?"
"I don't know what a cougar looks like," she admits.
I describe one but she looks skeptical.
"Was it a raccoon," I ask hopefully.
"It was big Gramma," she exclaims.
Off we go to consult Google but nothing seems to fit.
I am left pondering a strange and hairy creature with wild eyes.
It has made me remember a mystery creature I once looked at with my own wild eyes.
Fortunately, it never saw me.
I was fifteen I think.
I had hiked up Mt. Cook near Blue River.
Up into the mountain alpine country.
A morning trek alone brought me down to the edge of a small lake. As I stood gazing out over the water I heard the strangest sound. It was almost a jingle. A tinkle of claws on rock and a growl repeated like a chant.
And there it was.
My mystery creature.
I had absolutely no idea what I was looking at.
The creature looked fiercely to the left and right before quickly lapping water. Then It turned and trotted stiffly off.
It hadn't seen me, shielded as I was by a bush.
When I rushed breathless and wide eyed to the cabin, my cousin listened to my description with an incredulous look.
"It must have been a bobcat," she said.
"But it had a tail," I cried.
She gave me that look.
You know the one.
Years, and years later, in a museum display that included taxidermy I spied my mystery creature.
It was a Wolverine. 
Do you think it was too late to be terrified?

white paper

It's pretty fun to paint winter. Especially watercolor winter. Lots of white paper that way.

the barking

My mom had dozens of cousins.
You run the risk of that sort of thing if you have a proliferation of aunts and uncles and my mom had aunts and uncles aplenty.
One uncle followed his fathers fine example and (almost) singlehandedly produced ten children. Ten cousins for my mother... and there were eight more assorted aunts and uncles all doing likewise.
When the dust settled, there were several dozen cousins wandering in and out of Great Grandma and Grandpas farmhouse.
When you have that much going on, what difference would a batch of puppies... or two make?
None at all.
Bring on the barking.

arms full

My mother's grandparents lived far away, over the Rocky Mountains.
A province away.
A long train trip away.
The year my mother turned 12, she traveled with her younger sisters by train from Blue River, B.C. to Carstairs, Alberta to visit her grandma and grandpa.
Just the three little girls.
It was the first and last time.
For that brief moment in time, my mother was both old enough to be responsible for her little sisters, yet young enough to travel free.
And what perfect timing; puppies were there to play with on the farm.
My great grandparents raised Border Collies so a fresh batch of puppies was nothing new to them.
They were new to the little girls though.

Bet it's pretty hard to feel homesick with your arms full of puppy.

gack

Through the window I saw a squirrel balancing on the narrow rim of the oak rain barrel. Hanging by its toes, it leaned down, down, down for a drink.
I wonder what it thought when the goldfish zipped up for a closer look, eyeball to eyeball?
Gulp.
Gulp.
Gulp.
Gaaaaaaack!!!