the carrot, not the stick...

 it is currently -8°C (14°F), feeling like -18°C (1­°F), as i begin. i just got through nearly dislocating my (already injured) shoulder by wrenching open a door that was frozen shut. oh… and i am battling my first head cold of the season. 

happy Winter Solstice, everyone!

what was so important that it was worth the risk of (re)injury, you ask? an agreement that cannot be broken, i respond. i was concerned that the birds and the squirrels would not realize that there was food in their special bowl, so i ventured out just long enough to brush away some of the snow and top it up with a handful of (unfrozen) food. 

selfless as it may seem, this is actually a carefully calculated investment. i developed a significant case of SAD-ness last Winter, and i ended up befriending a squirrel. my new friend started showing up every day for lunch, and i obliged by sharing my food. the problem with feeding Nature is that you end up also feeding Nature’s friends. fast-forward to the present, and we are buying raw peanuts and bird feed by the kilo. lucky for me, Nature has the coolest friends! 

i was initially afraid that feeding Nature would result in the total destruction of this Summer’s balcony garden project. turns out, Nature responds much better to the carrot, not the stick. 

i was so convinced that the squirrels would take my Wintertime offerings as an invitation to consume everything, that i planted a test-run garden in one of the window boxes. i went with plants that could withstand the cold, as it was still early in the season. enter… lettuce and nasturtiums! 

i had already accepted the likelihood of finding it uprooted the next day, and having to reconsider our plans for the transplants we had already ordered from the nursery. what happened, you ask? absolutely nothing, i respond. we harvested the larger lettuce leaves every couple-few days, and the plants kept going for several weeks, before bolting. 

and, just like that, an understanding was formed. we made a daily offering to Nature, and our plants remained undisturbed. it sounds too simple to be true, but the carrot really worked, and i rewarded their self-control by occasionally adding something special to the mix. the birds and the squirrels all seem to enjoy the petals and seeds from the zinnias. they gobbled up any flowers that fell to the ground, but they never messed with the plants. so, i might include that in the mix.

or, an occasional sweet treat, just for the squirrels. yes, i eat Honeycomb cereal. have i lost your respect for that? 

i placed sections of chicken wire on top of the soil, to discourage the squirrels from digging there, but they left everything else alone. everything, that is, except for the mini sunflower. it was downright comical having to move that one pot around, and every new location seemed to further enrage the squirrel. that poor sunflower must have done something extra-wrong in a past life.

there was also that time we took too long getting out of bed, so the squirrel let itself in to get some peanuts. i kid you not… the squirrel figured out how to open the safety latches on the cat door, and it came in for breakfast. nothing else was disturbed. the squirrel had one target, and when it had satisfied that hunger, it went right back out the kitty door. i should point out that the cat absolutely refuses to use the flap, as she enjoys the frustration of making me open and close doors at her command. so, i just shook my head in defeat and taped it shut. 

the season quickly drew to a close. the large planters were covered and neatly stacked for the Winter, and the last harvest of beans was consumed with ramen. i have gotten much better at resisting the allure of wheaty things (allergies, if you are new here), but i still indulge every now and then.  

 still, Nature kept showing up.

sometimes, it brought a date. it took weeks to finally get a shot of these two together, as the female (i assume, as she is the smaller of the two) takes off at the slightest movement. their coloring becomes slightly washed out in the Winter, and they start looking less blue, and more like silvery-violet jays.

you enjoy that meal, friend. 

i took tons of photos of this year’s garden, and i plan hope to share more of them. maybe i will do so during the SADdest part of Winter, when i need to be reminded of the existence of sunshine and warmth. 

until then, i am taking all of the precautions to avoid a relapse of last Winter. most of all, i am making plans. 

next year's balcony garden project will be the best one yet. that is, if we manage to survive the Winter… and the (literal) gangs of turkeys that have been attacking people all over the city. Montreal is wild, for real. 

clockwork murder in the orange hour...

i need to sign up for some sort of non-dating service where you can meet people in your area who possess very specific knowledge and interests. in my case, i am in need of someone who either knows way too much about the habits of Montreal crows... or, who is willing to be my designated driver for a couple hours a day, while i hang out a car window, trying to track them in flight. 

but, before all of that... i made the mistake of hoping that it would be a sunny day, until the animator opened the curtains. 

me: why is it so... gray?

him: it's not that bad.

then he leaned forward to look at something down at street level, made a noise, then instantly assumed the universally-understood tone of voice that is reserved expressly for delivering bad news.

him: you know that orange work sign across the street?

me: uhm... yeh...?

him: well... the orange is gray. 

then i sighed and pulled the covers back over my head. 

why are we even talking about this, you ask? because i can talk about whatever the hell i want, for a start. but, mostly, because i found myself sat cross-legged, staring at the sky today, wondering if "it" was going to happen. 

twice a day, weather permitting, the sun reaches the perfect elevation in the sky to send all of its lovely rays streaming (horizontally) through our place. we call it "the orange hour". the sunrise orange hour is usually the more subtle of the two, as there are only a couple windows on that side of the building. 

the sunset orange hour, however, is a thing of indescribable beauty. the SW wall is more glass than bricks, and the whole place just glows. the color is amplified by the terracotta colored walls in the living and dining rooms. it is like sitting cross-legged on a sofa... inside of an active volcano. 

the "hour" lasts only a few minutes in the Winter, but we get Snyder Cut orange hours come Summer. and this happens twice every single day. 

there is also the other thing that happens twice every single day. right after the sun rises and again before it sets, the skies over Montreal become some sort of HOV lane for a large murder of crows. twice every single day, like clockwork, they head SW in the morning, and they take the return flight back, just as the sun threatens to set. 

i just really want to know where they are going, and i might even have to risk making a new friend if that will finally bring me some answers. 

so, there i was this afternoon, sipping my hot beverage and catching up with Norbert. (s)he had stopped by for a snack of stale tortilla chips and puddles of melted ice water. i kept glancing up from my screen, hopeful that the depressingly-overcast clouds would part just long enough for me to (literally) bask in the glow of sunset. 

however, it is still a cold, damp, gray Winter day here in Metropolis North, so i had to settle for clockwork murder in the orange hour... and, of course, the orange was gray. le sigh!

Norbert took off when the evening commute started, lest the crows get any funny ideas. so, i just carried on sipping my beverage, and enjoying the antics of the passing forms. they do not exactly fill the whole sky, but there is a steady ribbon of crows that follow the same path always, and it goes on for anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour... or more. and this happens twice every single day, unless we are experiencing a storm of some type. 

there are always a few stragglers, flapping extra hard to catch up with the rest of the murder. 

in the Summer, the shapes of crows would be displaced by silhouettes of bats heading out for an evening hunt... which is usually my signal to go inside. maybe i need to make two friends with special interests, because i also really need to know where those bats hang out all day. 

one of dem days...

 we (sorta) made plans for a quick day trip out of town to do some Nature watching. we proceed to wake up way too late to make it worth the drive. plus, there was that other thing.

him: sweetie... can you get me some headache pills? 

so, i pulled back the blanket and climbed out of bed... and almost fell over sideways. turns out, severe sinus pressure has a habit of confusing the mechanism in your inner-ear that is vital for stuff like balance and knowing which way is up. so, i had to stumble along to the bathroom, using the wall for support and guidance... which was a lot. i returned a short while later with painkillers, which we shared.

we then scolded ourselves for doing anything so stupid as to make plans in mid-Winter, even in a mild one like this. we have accepted that it is 'one of dem days'... until April... or May.

i get that people like adventuring in the cold, but taking photos of animals from the comfort of a heated vehicle is my notion of Winter Sport... like this one. i am fairly certain it is a ring-billed gull. 

(s)he was hanging out atop a mountain of snow, watching chunks of ice float down the St. Lawrence. yes. that qualifies as a pastime. especially when it is cold, and you live in the middle of a large river. 

speaking of activities in the cold... i have been watching curling. totally unironically. well... sorta unironically. it began, naturally, with the last Winter Olympics. i (and the rest of the planet) am amused by a sport where people spend so much time yelling "SVEEEP". then the Olympics were done, and i kept on watching. not enough to qualify as a "fan", but i definitely find it fascinating, and i would be down for giving it a try.

best of all... the animator makes fun of me every time he sees me watching curling, but it always ends the same way.

him: what's that [pointing to the screen]?

me: i'm watching Matt Dunstone play Joël Retornaz at the 2024 Co-op Canadian Open. 

two hours (and many curling jokes) later...

him: wow! Dunstone really does have a special touch with the stone. and he really seems to be handling the conditions better than everyone else. they're getting tripped up by the low humidity making the ice so dry. but, man... Dunstone can put that stone right where he wants it.

then i just looked at him.

me: do you even hear yourself right now?

then we laughed for a bit. that is how we handle most days. 

of course his name is Woody...

ever wake up feeling like someone lit the fuse on an ACME bomb, and your skull is containing all of the explosion? my sinuses do not do well in Winter... which makes it near impossible to sleep most nights (or days)... which tends to result in the most dangerous pastime of all... overthinking!

i do that a lot, apparently. at least, that is what the animator always says, and mom is quick to agree, so i guess it must be a thing.

the one positive to this recent attack of sleeplessness is that it gave me a chance to catch up with a friend who is more of a morning... uhm... person? so, there i was, lost in ponderance against the backdrop of sunrise, when my overthinking was interrupted by a quick flash of movement. 

i am developing an appreciation for the the noble art of birdwatching, especially when it is like subscribing to a delivery service. i sit here, sipping hot beverages, and the birds come to me. Uber Tweets? InstaOrnithology? DoorTwitch? HelloBird? somebody needs to make this happen!!!

most of the birds fly South for the season, but there are a few hardy varieties that hang around for Winter. i recently found myself in a staring contest, from like two meters away, with a blue jay. it went on for nearly five minutes, and it seriously felt like he had been given the assignment to study me and report back to headquarters. i was afraid to even reach for a camera... so we just sat there, exchanging looks, until he blinked and flew away. 

i even see the occasional bird of prey soaring by, especially when the snowy landscape makes it easy to spot their next meal. this time around, however, my morning visitor was a male Eastern Downy Woodpecker. it is nice to finally put a face to all the noise. 

i guess no one explained the concept of a still life to Woody, because he just really wanted to hop around. and, yes... of course his name is Woody!

if you squint a bit, you might spot a few black dots on his outer, white tail feather(s). that is how you distinguish between Hairy and Downy woodpeckers (according to the folks at Cornell, so blame them if that is incorrect). 

i was looking up, while he was upside down, tapping away at an old branch. is 'bottom-up top-view' a thing?

so far, i am resisting falling further down the birding rabbit hole. i mainly try to appreciate those moments when they happen.

best of all, my cat (Cordy) does not seem to get that she is supposed to be some sort of mighty predator. so, she just snuggles under the blanket with me, and watches the birds... or the bats... or the squirrels. her other hobbies include laying claim to my stuff, and being told that she is the 'Sweetest Cupcake in the World'. seriously... can you think of a better birding buddy?