12/3/4 Winter's Still Outside the Door

In March I begin to tire of winter whites, and the vast expanse of it directly outside my window as I look at my frozen river. To  say nothing of the snow deer in the yard, hoping to be untethered soon:

These are the days when cabin fever can strike, and the urge to get outside sends me roaming around the countryside hoping to find signs of life. Maybe a bird or two. It doesn't really matter what I see, I just want relief from the frigid crystals that bind us....however beautifully winter arranges itself  along the roadside...

over the fields...

 

and upon the rocks...

The moodiness of March is a force to be reckoned with!  Around the Ottawa Valley all manner of life is coping with winter's last gasp. 

Cows and horses out of the barn for the first time in months

Mourning doves wait patiently...

The Raven tires of endlessly surfing snowdrifts...

 

 Wild turkeys roosting. Do they dream of fresh green sprouts?

 Oh for the day when we can go for a walk without hats, mitts,scarves, boots, coats!

                           

The road is long to spring, but there are signs.

The harbingers of spring are there, like little rewards for being so patient.And as I drive down the icy road, a final magnificent present! Do you see what I see??

Look closely...a tiny oval speck...white to blend with the snow....in the middle  of the shot

 YES!!!!!!!

A gift from winter. Posing quietly while I grabbed the camera, got out of the car, walked across the road to the edge of the field...and sighed hello.

A perfect ending. Just perfect.

Hold Your Horses

I have always loved horses. When I was nine years old, my parents sent me to Pioneer Ranch Camp near Rocky Mountain House, Alberta. It offered  swimming, crafts, archery, and horse back riding. I was so excited! First day of arrival we were given our horses...and lo and behold, there before me stood my mighty steed - Crash. Who names a mighty steed Crash? I won't belabor the fact that I hated camp with a vengeance, was desperately homesick, and never did make friends with the bow legged, sway backed, big bellied old nag they had saddled me with! Crash's sole mission at camp was to unseat me. And this she did successfully at least twice a day.

I couldn't wait to get home.
Oddly enough, I stuck Crash in a forgetaboutit compartment with all the other hateful old nags, and  retained my love of horses. At university I was fortunate to have a friend who had a boyfriend who had a father who had money...and lots of it. And he also had Tennessee Walkers that needed regular exercise. These are magnificent animals with five gaits- walk, trot, canter, gallop and a special fast walk that makes them excellent  horses that you can ride all day without having your innards completely jiggled away. They're used by the judges in competitive  bird-dog trials. I never owned one, but I decided upon graduation that once I was settled I would have  my own horse some day.
That day eventually arrived, and I was so excited! Perhaps I was guilty of putting the cart before the horse, as I really didn't know much about quarter (or whole or half) horses, and when I met this crusty old horse trader (who I must say, was a bit of a horse's arse),  he promised me that Cinder was an excellent horse...maybe a little long in the tooth, but this was a one horse town, and I was champing at the bit. Cinder came home with me. I lived in an old, square timber cottage at the time. Cinder lived, uh, outside. As we didn't have a barn or anything. What was I thinking??

This horse of a different colour was dapple gray and as gentle as a lamb with any child that came near  her. A two year old child could sit on her back for hours, and never, ever be in danger. But an adult? Hah! Memories of Crash, and then some! Cinder simply would not submit, nor go gently anywhere if a human weighing more than 50 lbs was on her back. This deplorable situation lasted about a month. As fall was approaching, it became imperative to find her a barn to live in for the winter, and a local farmer who just happened to love horses, offered  to board Cinder. He took her out into the bush almost daily, had her hitched to a wagon that we used for sleigh rides, and just generally gave her a life she loved.  Come spring, rather than pay for her room and board, I got off my high horse, and gave her to him.
I still  love of horses, but now that means riding them on occasion, and taking pictures whenever I happen upon them. Like the wild horses of Assateague, that we saw this past October in Virginia, and the draft horses that I found just down the road last weekend.

Beautiful.

A Fish Story.

Ah, holidays are great! Here I am enjoying the fantastic weather and the absolutely beautiful beach on Assateague...part of the Barrier Islands of Virginia. Sun, surf, and sand...and hey, check out the guy sitting in the beach chair behind me...




He is definitely into the R&R zone...cooler at hand, sunscreen (I hope) and he's not really nodding off, he's actually fishing! Who knew how relaxing a sport it could be! In fact, he has three lines on the go...and while there were several other fishermen on the beach, buddy seemed to be the only one catching anything.
As I watched, he reeled in a small Sand Shark. For someone from the Ottawa Valley, who thinks fishing is about small mouth bass, this is a BIG DEAL! Even bigger deal was the way in which he deftly reeled in the shark, quickly unhooked it, and threw it back into the water. I liked that.


Then, a few minutes later, his reel started to bend in that way that means "get over here, now!" So, of course being nosy tourists, we did. One guy must have said something especially nice, because all of a sudden, HE was the one reeling in the big one, while Mr. Catchanrelease watched and coached. See? Fishing is easy! It took about fifteen minutes of effort, and finally, what to our wondering eyes should appear?

A Stingray!! A large, lethal one that is closely related to the one that killed everyone's favourite crocodile hunter, Steve Irwin! And Mr. Catchanrelease just smiled, lifted its tail and pointed out the deadly spurs to the witless woman watching with mouth wide open. (Me).








And then, he did something even more amazing! He rolled the stingray onto its back and began to rub its belly, and talk softly to it while the guy who landed it gently removed the hook. OMG.




And THEN, he took the time to show it to a little toddler before he carefully moved it back into the surf, free once more to tell the whole school of stingrays about the adventure on the beach it had just had!

The guy who brought the beast in loudly proclaimed that landing it successfully had been better than sex!

And I decided I was in love. With fishing.

And if you happen to be Mr. Catchenrelease in this photo...thanks, it was great! TTFN