Whooo?
Overnight we received a gentle five cm of fresh new snow. Sufficient to cover the rude mess left in the ravine as a result of those aggressive wind gusts that scattered forest detritus over all the pathetically melting snow.
Neatly covering up as well all the dog droppings we've been gingerly avoiding, unhelpfully deposited on the trail, for the past week and more. So where is it all? Still there but camouflaged; tread carefully.
Another mild, albeit heavily overcast day, with not much of a breeze. Still, everything is fresh and bright and clean-looking. The evergreens once again cloaked in a mantle of snow, and appearing as enchanting as ever, the renewal of our winter wonderland.
The creek is still in melt-mode, running off from the melting snowpack, aided by the rain that began falling gently. The water gusts in eddies and burbles along, coloured by all that particulate matter its rush has picked up and carries with it downstream.
On the bridge rails there is no vestige left of any of the offerings we've left over the past few days. But on the slight layer of fresh new snow left on the rails there is the imprint of tiny squirrel feet, forever foraging.
Since we've brought along a bagful of seeds and nuts and dried fruits, we begin distributing the largess carefully, onto the middle-spaced rails, one bridge after another, until we've done all four - none left for the fifth. There are more than aplenty squirrels rushing about, and from a distance, we espie one on the rails of the bridge we've just left, availing itself of our offerings.
And, as I happen to look up, I see also a whirl of large, blunt wings, then the sight of the barred owl, roosting itself precisely where we'd first seen it five or more days earlier. Decided to stay around awhile, evidently. Obviously hunting has been good for him here, no opposition, no other claimants to the hunting territory.
I'm left to wonder whether I've been helpfully baiting the area for his future delectation....
Neatly covering up as well all the dog droppings we've been gingerly avoiding, unhelpfully deposited on the trail, for the past week and more. So where is it all? Still there but camouflaged; tread carefully.
Another mild, albeit heavily overcast day, with not much of a breeze. Still, everything is fresh and bright and clean-looking. The evergreens once again cloaked in a mantle of snow, and appearing as enchanting as ever, the renewal of our winter wonderland.
The creek is still in melt-mode, running off from the melting snowpack, aided by the rain that began falling gently. The water gusts in eddies and burbles along, coloured by all that particulate matter its rush has picked up and carries with it downstream.
On the bridge rails there is no vestige left of any of the offerings we've left over the past few days. But on the slight layer of fresh new snow left on the rails there is the imprint of tiny squirrel feet, forever foraging.
Since we've brought along a bagful of seeds and nuts and dried fruits, we begin distributing the largess carefully, onto the middle-spaced rails, one bridge after another, until we've done all four - none left for the fifth. There are more than aplenty squirrels rushing about, and from a distance, we espie one on the rails of the bridge we've just left, availing itself of our offerings.
And, as I happen to look up, I see also a whirl of large, blunt wings, then the sight of the barred owl, roosting itself precisely where we'd first seen it five or more days earlier. Decided to stay around awhile, evidently. Obviously hunting has been good for him here, no opposition, no other claimants to the hunting territory.
I'm left to wonder whether I've been helpfully baiting the area for his future delectation....
Labels: Perambulations
posted by Pieface @ 5:23 PM
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