Here is my mother's poem, inspired by our mutual wildlife adventures:


In My Backyard



When I open the patio door,

I look down at the floor.

Is there a poisonous snake there?

Next I scan the streambank.

Lurks an alligator big as a tank?

When I go outside, I beware.

Mostly I see lots of things

that makes my heart sing.

There's no separation, no fence.

Otters play in my backyard.

Sighting blue herons is easy, not hard.

Living in their midst takes common sense.

Sometimes I stand still as a stone,

blending with the background adapting tone

similar to that of a tree.

Only this way can I see

the beauty of the world that be

right under my nose, wondrously.

I think the birds must have been right, because the weather certainly seems to be changing. Why does anyone ever listen to the woodchuck? Shadow? Please. The past few days flocks and flocks of blackbirds have been descending upon us. Grackles, starlings and red wing blackbirds have all come together and the sound they make is eerie. The alarm clock sound of the red wing; I always hear them saying, "Boo-ker Teeeee", and the chuk chek rattling of the rest of them fills the air. The grackles strut around greedily with their beady yellow eyes darting nervously here and there. The starlings just eat. I filled the feeder on Saturday morning and on Monday it was stripped bare, suet cakes and all. I am beginning to miss even the blue jays, after this brutal takeover. Another return visitor is the Canadian goose. Only four of them out on the marsh ice this morning and they are already making an unholy racket.

Most exciting news this week: we saw a barred owl on our way out of work on Sunday night. We were about to make a left from the drive and perched on a branch right above us was the owl. He looked down at our stopped car, and wondering faces, as if to say: You can't see me, I'm an owl. Look away! He flew off, but not so far. We left filled with awe and excitement; we had heard his hooting for the past few weeks. I was so excited that I dreamed of the owl that night, that he was sick on his side on the ground. I tried to pet him, but he flew away.

It was 62 degrees and sunny today, and this morning we headed to Lake Louisa for a hike on the loop. Everything was melting and birds seemed to be everywhere. We saw a brown creeper, which was new, among the regulars. The air smells like perfume, it's so alive, after so many weeks of air that smells like ice. It's dirt, it's moss, which we also saw today.


Once back home, in the afternoon, it was warm and I surveyed the land for a prime sugar snap pea location. Almost all the grass is uncovered. I spent a good deal of the day purposely stamping on the soft wet snow to break it up. Clouds began to pull in from the west, so I went indoors for a cup of tea. After 20 minutes the storm had passed, with only a sprinkling of rain, and the black clouds receded in the east. The sun came out again, strong with a dry wind, and in the east a huge double rainbow appeared, as bright as I've ever seen, with thick bands on the top, and many smaller bands on the bottom. It was glorious, and I can't help but to think that spring will come back soon. Even though snow is predicted this weekend.