Greetings, All!
A quiet day, this Christmas Day of 2009. We had our usual ravine walk with our two little dogs, and because it was so relatively mild - anything under -6 degrees C. requires that they wear boots to protect their tiny tender paws from the effects of long exposure to snow and ice - it was nice for them to be able to ramble along in the woods, on the trails, bootless. Not that it does much to enliven things for the smaller of the two, he just takes his time toddling along.
The two bird feeders that people had latterly hung along one section of the trail nearest where we enter the ravine had obviously been filled, earlier in the morning. As we walked under them, we treaded countless bits of seed casings, but saw no birds this day, as opposed to yesterday, when it was just as mild and the sun shone, and chickadees and nuthatches flew constantly from boughs to bird feeders.
There were a few others walking in the ravine today, which came as a bit of a surprise. We hardly expected to see others out walking on this day. Our encounters were pleasant enough, but precluded the usual "Merry Christmas" that most people automatically extend; these two couples did not utter that seasonal greeting of goodwill, and so as Jews ourselves, we felt it was hardly needful for us to appropriate the occasion.
Our ravine-walk "Merry Christmas" confined itself to a generous sprinkling of peanuts for all the woodland squirrels, red, black and grey, whose presence has been relatively rare these extremely cold days. But today, there were groups of the little guys gathered on the largest of the grand pines just at the bottom of the descent where the trial initially dips into the ravine.
Among them our very favourite Stumpy. For Stumpy, the little black squirrel without a graceful plume of a tail, we set aside the largest, longest, thickest of the peanuts. Although since it's become so cold and the snow has packed into the ravine he no longer approaches us as boldly as heretofore, he does wait for us while up on a tree trunk, to pay our daily dues.
When the big, fat peanut has been placed close to the tree, and we've stepped sufficiently back with Button and Riley, Stumpy ventures down to retrieve the offering, and takes himself off with it. Occasionally he will return for another, once he's eaten the first one. But his behaviour is quite a bit different, and we're glad to observe that.
For one thing, it's obvious his former insouciance before the snow came down might now pose as a deterrent to long life. Our dogs' presence may not pose a hazard to his longevity, but others very well might, and he needs to be more cautious now. Lightning speed over snow-fluffed ground is no longer assured. And, given the presence of a great barred owl, he and the other small denizens need to be alert and ready to flee.
Yesterday we came across others whom we know, walking in the ravine, and at that time their heartfelt "Merry Christmas" greetings to us were returned just as heartily. We've become accustomed to readily responding, echoing that greeting. Today, neither walking along our street to reach the trailhead, nor on the trail itself, did we see any whom we know.
It's another world, today, far from the world that we grew up in as little kids when we were more likely to hear accusations of "Christ killer!" from kids at school, or "dirty Jew!" than the kindly "Merry Christmas" now so generously sprinkled through social discourse at this bright holiday season. Progress aplenty has been made.
The earlier, reciprocal "Happy Hannukah!", speaks volumes.
The two bird feeders that people had latterly hung along one section of the trail nearest where we enter the ravine had obviously been filled, earlier in the morning. As we walked under them, we treaded countless bits of seed casings, but saw no birds this day, as opposed to yesterday, when it was just as mild and the sun shone, and chickadees and nuthatches flew constantly from boughs to bird feeders.
There were a few others walking in the ravine today, which came as a bit of a surprise. We hardly expected to see others out walking on this day. Our encounters were pleasant enough, but precluded the usual "Merry Christmas" that most people automatically extend; these two couples did not utter that seasonal greeting of goodwill, and so as Jews ourselves, we felt it was hardly needful for us to appropriate the occasion.
Our ravine-walk "Merry Christmas" confined itself to a generous sprinkling of peanuts for all the woodland squirrels, red, black and grey, whose presence has been relatively rare these extremely cold days. But today, there were groups of the little guys gathered on the largest of the grand pines just at the bottom of the descent where the trial initially dips into the ravine.
Among them our very favourite Stumpy. For Stumpy, the little black squirrel without a graceful plume of a tail, we set aside the largest, longest, thickest of the peanuts. Although since it's become so cold and the snow has packed into the ravine he no longer approaches us as boldly as heretofore, he does wait for us while up on a tree trunk, to pay our daily dues.
When the big, fat peanut has been placed close to the tree, and we've stepped sufficiently back with Button and Riley, Stumpy ventures down to retrieve the offering, and takes himself off with it. Occasionally he will return for another, once he's eaten the first one. But his behaviour is quite a bit different, and we're glad to observe that.
For one thing, it's obvious his former insouciance before the snow came down might now pose as a deterrent to long life. Our dogs' presence may not pose a hazard to his longevity, but others very well might, and he needs to be more cautious now. Lightning speed over snow-fluffed ground is no longer assured. And, given the presence of a great barred owl, he and the other small denizens need to be alert and ready to flee.
Yesterday we came across others whom we know, walking in the ravine, and at that time their heartfelt "Merry Christmas" greetings to us were returned just as heartily. We've become accustomed to readily responding, echoing that greeting. Today, neither walking along our street to reach the trailhead, nor on the trail itself, did we see any whom we know.
It's another world, today, far from the world that we grew up in as little kids when we were more likely to hear accusations of "Christ killer!" from kids at school, or "dirty Jew!" than the kindly "Merry Christmas" now so generously sprinkled through social discourse at this bright holiday season. Progress aplenty has been made.
The earlier, reciprocal "Happy Hannukah!", speaks volumes.
Labels: Human Relations, Particularities, Perambulations
posted by Pieface @ 5:48 PM
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