Ground-Feeders

The snow was so deep that I had to put on my rain wellies to keep my socks dry when I went outside to feed the birds Friday evening. Thursday, I had added a big scoop of sunflower seed to the main feeder and jerry-rigged a broken suet feeder so the more adventuresome woodpeckers (we get many down woodpeckers at the feeders) could stop pecking at the treated post and eat suet, instead. I have a third feeder that holds thistle for the smallest birds, clingers, like wrens and finches. But by Friday afternoon, the sunflower seed was nearly gone and the ground-feeders were on the hunt.

Juncos are ground-feeders who adore thistle. They stray from the feeders and come hang out on the porch, looking for seed. So, of course I put a little out there for the pleasure of both the birds and our (indoor) cat.

Here's a junco. They're pretty cute. (From Ohio-Nature.com--I couldn't get a good shot through the window.)

The masses of birds (cardinals, juncos, woodpeckers, pigeons, tufted titmice, plus one squirrel) were the first thing I noticed when I looked out of the window at 6:45 a.m. Sure, there was plenty of snow. But substantial snow cover means ground feeders can't find food easily. I feed birds all year round, though winter and nest-building season in early spring are the busiest times. I used to stress out about feeding too many squirrels. Honestly, we don't have that many that hang around the feeders. With 12 acres of woods, and plenty of forest around us, we get only the lazy few near the house. What I do mind are the chipmunks and moles who tunnel all around our house and yard (and in my garden!), drawn by the grubs that feed on whatever the birds leave behind. A few years back we had a professional mole trapper come, but after he charged us $250 for catching 10 or so, he gave up, saying that he could never make them all go away because of the huge population. I deal with them tunnel by tunnel when they show up in the spring.

I was glad I'd banked up the feeders Thursday since I didn't care much for going outside on Friday. My obsessive driveway scraping rather wore me out so that I started dreaming where I was sitting Thursday night around 10:30. At one point Friday afternoon I was trying to remember where I'd seen lines of men in gray overcoats carrying giant, yellow, symbol-covered, triangular traffic signs in their arms as they paraded up and down a city street. Then I remembered that brief dream.

I wrote some fiction, finishing up a chapter that will be in a book that will eventually be another BLISS HOUSE novel. (BLISS HOUSE is a fictional, haunted Virginia house built after the Civil War. It is stuffed full of stories, and I'm not sure how many novels it will take to tell them all.) I've been struggling all week to get a good solid block of writing time in, and I finally did. In order to do it, I had to turn off my phone for 3 hours. I thought it might kill me, but I did it! And it was definitely worth it.

So, the birds are fed and the pages are written. For now. It was a good day.

Below is a gratuitous pic of Miss Nina, our cat, as she looks out for birds in the snow. I posted it on Facebook, but I like it so much, I wanted to share it here, too. Plus, it looks like she's balancing a tree on her nose, which is all kinds of awesome.

--L.

(Fiction words written today: 1296)

Ice and Rain

There's something about an incoming snow storm that makes me feel like nesting. Instead of writing, I spent most of the afternoon scraping our very long driveway of 1/4 inch of sleet. There's a large hill involved, and my beloved had yet to return from teaching his last classes of the semester. I confess I was also thinking of the predicted several inches of snow. It's one thing to have snow on the driveway, but quite another to have a thick layer of ice below it that must melt before the driveway is passable.

I didn't ask the boy to help right away. I liked the solitude of the afternoon, the rhythmic sound of the shovel blade against the asphalt. The road that runs along our property is steep, so I was able to watch the progress of the light traffic. The school bus had no problem, and neither did the Amish children in their horse-drawn buggy as they headed to their homes near the orchards. (They attend classes at a house a couple of miles away.) I worked for about an hour and a half with the dogs playing nearby. By the end of that time, the road had become more treacherous and a Jeep and a pickup truck were both stuck on the hill for a good amount of time. The drivers figured it out, finally. One made it up the hill, the other backed down very slowly. Scout, our Rat Terrier/Rottie mix, barked his encouragement, and thus assured that none of the drivers pulled in our driveway to ask for his assistance.

The sleet had turned into a light rain by the time we reached the gate, and I called the boy outside to help clear the parking area up near the house. He was excited--mostly, I think, about the prospect of popcorn and hot chocolate at the end of our task. We worked for another 1/2 hour, while the dogs got soaked and chewed on sticks. The boy was not delighted when I headed down the driveway again, pushing away the small amount of sleet/snow that had accumulated all over again. But I felt compelled. I wanted it clear, clear, clear. When I reached the bottom third, I looked up to see him wearing a look of disbelief. I'm always engaged in overkill--a perfectionist at heart. Of course it was a Sisyphean task. As I type now, hours later, I can hear more sleet against the window. I had been thinking never enough, never enough. But sometimes we just have to say enough is enough. I called the dogs and we trudged up the hill again to go inside.

Now we are cozy. Beloved is home. School is cancelled for tomorrow. It was definitely enough.


(Fiction word count today: 0)