on friday it snowed and snowed but now the sun has been shining from the blue skies for two days. the snow is melting fast — in places. i still sunk butt-deep into wet snow while collecting fresh catkins from the willows. but i also sat on a sun-warmed rock listening to dry hay rustling in the wind. it's the moment just before life begins anew.
i shoveled snow off from the spots where i'm hoping snowdrop bulbs still hide in the ground. no sign of any sprouts, though, so i'm fearing the voles may have done away with them. while i was shoveling, a crested tit sat on a low branch of the rowan tree above me, belting out love songs. i hope he finds a mate. they are not too common around human habitats but we have lots of rotting birches for nesting so they just might want to stay.
the makeshift birdfeed from my last countryside visit had all but disappeared, i happily noticed. but my attempt to squirrel-proof the sack by hanging it from a long piece of wire wasn't a great success. apparently they can hang by their tails to reach impossible places and reel in the haul. that's what i caught our remaining resident squirrel doing yesterday morning. his sibling was the one i scraped off the asphalt last fall. they both used to live in our attic.
i waded through the snow to the far corner of our property to pick some juniperberries, for homemade gin. not the most pleasurable harvest, but i do like my gin quite a bit... there is also forest fruit liquor dripping through a sieve as i'm writing this. i think it's the remains of some berry sorbet i made last year, the peels and seeds and stuff. i figured i'd infuse them in some booze to get the last bit of flavour out of the bilberries and wild raspberries. i'm glad i did, because the taste is heavenly! it would do well in a frosting or, well, ice cream maybe...
on my way to the juniper corner, i thought i saw an eagle but it was so high up i could barely see. the sea eagle has been almost extinct my entire life so i saw my first one only a few years back, soaring way above as well. it's almost like seeing a mythical creature, surprising and awe-inspiring, such a big bird.
speaking of surprising creatures, it seems that whenever i pick something off the floor, this guy is hiding underneath:
i'm not sure what type of spider this is exactly. most room spiders, the big ones, are brown and furry. ours are almost black, and shiny. i call them licorice spides for that reason. they are big enough that you can hear one running across the floor if it's quiet. they are most useful roommates in an old house like this and quite shy & polite.
(and yes, that is what our living room floor looks like. the overall appearance is a mottled maroon, but the dots form a web-like, wavy pattern if you look at it right, much like those 'magic eye' pictures. when we moved here in 1984, the walls were painted dark brown, snot green, bright orange and lemon yellow. the room with the citrus tones had poison green flooring. i blame the early 70's. the house was originally built in 1851, and has had some beautiful wallpapers. layer upon layer can be found, from ornate violet and gold florals to a more subdued mid-century vagueness.)
