seasonal change

Summer’s End

/ The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 8 Comments

Never mind the calendar, all that equinox stuff, and the availability or otherwise of pumpkin-spiced lattes: the local crows have decided that fall started this morning.

I could tell things had changed as soon as I left the house. While the leaves are turning colour a bit, and it is noticeably chillier, the change in crow behaviour is the real sign of the seasons turning.

Crow air traffic controllers have taken the day off.

Normally boundary-sensitive crows are trespassing on each others’ turf with abandon.

Large groups of crows gather in trees, cawing madly; not the “look out, it’s an eagle/raven/raccoon” -type cawing but the riotous joie de vivre cawing of the autumn crow.

Crows compete with squirrels for newly fallen nuts.

They chase each other and tumble in the air just for fun.

I’m followed by a crowd of unruly crows, with the boldest brushing past an inch from my head and making the dog nervous.

Definitely fall!

I write about this phenomenon, the rowdy, rollicking, freedom-from-fledglings social season, almost every year. Although most of the crows are still suffering the itchiness and indignity of moulting season, it’s a joyful, somewhat lawless time of year in Crowlandia. The crows even look like pirates!

The parents are finally (mostly) free from the ceaseless demands of the fledglings; those fledglings are now teenagers and full of curiosity and daring-do; the trees are full of berries and nuts and banquet lies around every corner; crow rules of etiquette are optional.

There was a second, concrete and non-crow-related sign of a seasonal shift this morning.

As I stopped for a minute while Geordie did some intense tree sniffing, a man rode by on a bicycle. In the passenger seat was a little girl wearing a pink sequinned top and belting out “Jingle Bells” at the top of her lungs.

Clearly, crows and kids both march to their own seasonal drummers!

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Waiting for Spring

/ The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 18 Comments

It seems to have been an especially long wait this year. This, for example,  was my studio yesterday morning.

In case you’ve been wondering why I’ve been so quiet these past few weeks it’s not, unfortunately, because I’m on a tropical beach somewhere. For most 2019 thus far you could find me in my living room, wrapped in a quilt and reading a large pile of books or watching Netflix. Not that you would want to find me — a Gollum-like coughing, sneezing and whinging creature.

If you read my New Year’s Eve blog, you know that cold/cough number one came as a Christmas gift and lingered over New Year and into early January.

For a couple of weeks later in January, things were looking up.

It was faux spring (better known as Fool’s Spring.) Flowers were blooming in the garden and I felt much better. “Ha, this winter’s going to be a doddle,” I may have thought to myself in a moment of jaunty optimism.

This is why it’s called Fool’s Spring.

The February snow arrived in drifts, burying any upstart flowers.

Along with the snow came the second, even worse, version of the dreaded lurgy. With maximum inconvenience, it struck the evening before my Valentine’s Day studio sale. My husband was even sicker than me, so it fell to my lovely and competent kids to run the show.

For part of February I was too sick to do anything at all. Since lying down made me cough more, I spent hours watching the BBC’s gardening guru, Monty Don, helping people to transform their rubble-filled backyards into replicas of the gardens at Versailles. We also toured the gardens of Italy together, which was very nice.

In between Netflix, I read a lot of books, mostly novels.

When the Christmas book bonanza ran out, I started downloading the Inspector Gamache mysteries to my iPad. They’re set in rural Quebec and I’ve been enjoying them, but after binge reading four in a row, it might be time for a change.

A bonus to being sick was that Edgar, at 9 years old, has finally condescended to sit on my lap. He’s been lap-phobic since we’ve had him, but suddenly this winter, perhaps because I was generally covered in a camouflaging quilt and immobile for days on end,  he decided to throw caution to the wind. We both love this new arrangement.

I’ve mostly stopped coughing now, but I have the speaking voice of  a chipmunk and about 40% of my usual energy.

On most days recently I’ve been able to get out for short walks with the dog. They’re slow walks but I’m at least able to see glimpses of the real world and keep up with the latest in the crow-munity.

Still winter woolly weather out there.

From the weather forecast, and from signs I’ve seen on my walks, it seems as if spring (or at least a second Fool’s Spring) is just around the corner. I’m hoping that it will bring with it some more energy for me,  and a few touches of colour in the landscape.

See tomorrow’s post for actual Signs of Spring.