the time of the singing of birds is come ...

More snapshots of spring from walkabouts around our place over the last week or so ...

". . . flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land . . ." May it ever be thus.

The changeable days of March on Mackin Pond

Spring ... it's such a lift to the spirits, even when spirits are already high. Like laundry on the line on a blustery March day; it shakes the wrinkles out of winter. The greenhouse is standing ready and beckoning to me. I've started some tender young shoots of rainbow chard and a whole bunch of flowers on the kitchen counter. I just can't resist trying to grow more flowers and herbs. Our growing season is short up here on the plateau and most years we see a hard frost every month of the year. But maybe ... if I get them going early enough in the greenhouse ... maybe I'll have a few posies to plant out and delight our multitudes of hummingbirds and to brighten up our kitchen table in summertime. It's always worth trying. Laundry on the line today. Blowing sideways in the wind. Cotton smells like heaven when it's whipped dry in a good breeze. Have a lovely Sunday evening and thanks for dropping in. Till next time.

Spring is in the air ...

David and I took some time away from the homestead this month to go and visit family in the Okanagan and Similkameen Valleys. Wonderful visits, one and all. When we left here it was still winter; although waning. Upon our return however; it's a different story. Spring! The pussy willows are coming out, the Red Winged Blackbirds are back en mass and the snow is fast disappearing. Our first dandelion opened her bright yellow petals on the spring equinox. Robins and Cedar Waxwings grace the meadow once again and all's right with the world. Vinny reminds me to mention the return of the bluebirds as well! Here are some photos from my walkabout the day after our return. Thought you might enjoy a bit of a wander with me...

Coyote

Saturday morning. Vincent spotted a four legged at the far end of the meadow. The three of us picked up binoculars and cameras and spent the next hour or so enjoying the beauty and the hunting skill of this female coyote.

She steps her way lightly over the crust of the snow, stopping, listening intently for activity under the snow; then the pounce. There is the lightest lift off and precision and force in her landing. Front paws breaking through the crust of snow. Another pounce of front legs and snout. Deeper into the snow. She is patient and still. All we can see of her at this point is her torso, hind legs and tail as she waits for the unfortunate vole under the snow. These first few photos show our girl, after the hunt; enjoying the fruits of her labour.

And off she goes. In search of another bite.

Across the creek and in amongst the willows. . .

Onward ever onward.