Longer, lighter days on the way

It's now officially winter in the Northern Hemisphere, thanks to the arrival of solstice -- 'sun stop' the actual meaning of the word. 

While the sun certainly doesn't stop, the hours of darkness now ease, and by January we'll likely be noticing a slightly later sunset (and if you're among those who get up earlier than I do, an earlier dawn). 

With all the dark times we've recently been experiencing, this Solstice seems like a day for celebration, as I for one, am looking forward to brighter times. 

How 'bout those brrrds!

It's been colder than normal here for over a week now. Apparently, it's one of the longest spells of zero-ish weather the Lower Mainland of BC has experienced.  

Those whose lives keep them outdoors must be having a miserable time. 

The only ones I've been able to help are the hummingbirds, accustomed to their fix of sugary nectar at our feeder. But in temps like the ones we've been having, that sweetened water would have frozen for sure. And really, a lot of good a block of sweetened ice would do any of them. 

So when it gets cold around here, a low-light lamp serves as a mini-heater for the feeder. It seems to be just enough to keep the nectar from freezing without letting the liquid get too hot for those little beaks. 

These past few nights, before going to bed, I've been peering out the window, and sure enough, there have been a couple of hummers perched on the feeder, heads bowed and resting, but overall, staying a bit warm. 

Must admit, it breaks my heart, thinking how much they look like unhoused folks who've found themselves a grated heater, a feature on many sidewalks in Vancouver. 

I have a feeling I'm not the only one who doesn't put out any kind of heating unit for those unfortunate souls with nowhere to live, or maybe even to spend a warm night. 

Spiders rule

 

Now that the big freeze has retreated, the spiders are back, though I'm not sure what they'll catch. I haven't seen a lot of small insects around. 

Maybe that big web will catch the last of this too-long-lingering flu bug we've had. At least it hasn't been covid.

Looking forward to the new year, with blessings and happy times for all!

Hummin' along

Somehow I doubt our little bird is humming 'White Christmas' though if that were the case, he'd be pretty close to being on time. We had a dusting of the snow today and even grumpy me had to admit that it looks quite pretty. 

I'm not sure how something as small as a hummingbird gets by when it's below freezing outdoors. It's clear that fluffing out their feathers must do something -- their own little 'puffy coats' I guess. 

This one (and pals) get a bit of a boost, as the feeder itself is now resting (as it did during last winter's coldest spell) over top of the lava light base. A small tin pie pan keeps the sugared water from getting too hot, but the perch must still be a little bit warm, as the bird will come and sit there for quite a long while.

But now that night has fallen, I guess the little birds are back up in the cedars, going into the temporary 'hibernation' they apparently do when the weather's this harsh. 

Sweet dreams, little hummers.  

One brave little soul

While my last post was partly about Glorious Birds, today's note concerns an altogether different but nonetheless glorious-in-its-own-way bird.

We're in the midst of a very cold spell, one that's very unusual for where we live. Last time I checked, the thermometer read minus ten. That's Celsius; in Fahrenheit it's 14. 

So when our brave little hummingbird came to the feeder, we worried the liquid would likely freeze. Sure enough, when we brought it in, ice crystals were already starting to form. But then the Dear Man came up with one of his brilliant ideas -- the lamp base from the lava light appeared to be just the right size to hold the feeder. So it, combined with a tiny pie tin (with a few holes punched into it), has turned into a warm spot for the hummer to spend an extended dinner visit. 

And wouldn't you know -- the way serendipity seems so often to play a role in my life -- right now I am finishing a novel that features a group some refer to as Hummers. They're nothing at all like the oversized motor car by that name, but I guess to find out more, you might just have to read the book yourself. 

Yep!

Snow happens. And I guess I was right about thinking that change was about to happen.

This eerily blue image is how the world looked from the front door just after 8 this morning -- in other words, only a few minutes after sunrise, which just keeps getting later and later. 

This is the time of year that makes me wonder whether the people who seem to want Daylight Saving Time to be in effect forever whether they've thought about what mornings will be like. Dark. The sun won't come up until 9. Ugh. Hibernation well become the next new norm. 

This also happens to be the day when many observe the Feast of St Nicholas. When I was a kid, and even brattier than I am now, I convinced our mother that we deserved candies and other small stocking-type treats on this date. I suspect the reason she relented was solely because the day was named after a saint. Those kinds of arguments worked more than once on my behalf. Yep. Bratty could have been my middle name. 

As for this morning's snow, it was very wet and heavy and dragged down part of the bamboo 'trees' that provide such nice privacy from our neighbour. Here's hoping that a 'splint' job will help it to stand tall again. 

The big shift

I'm in the habit of having a couple of fresh flowers on the ledge above the kitchen sink. Lately, this little wish of mine has become a little harder to fulfill, as nearly all of the flowers in the garden have come and been. About the only reliable blooms that remain are the little white four-stars (my name for them) that cling to the leggy ends of the arugula -- a hardy plant that's still making contributions to our salads. 

But yes, this morning there was one bedraggled nasturtium in the pot out front -- and where the temps are finally getting frosty, I figured I'd better snip it and enjoy it for the bright spot of colour it provides. 

The weather predictions include the possibility of some snow, which is likely better news for many than the streams of heavy rains we've been experiencing here in BC. Although I'm never thrilled to have a big dump of the white stuff, even someone as grumpy as I can be admits that the first bits of it can be awfully pretty. 

Whatever the next while may bring, it's clear that the big shift into winter is upon us. 

Brave

That's what I thought when I encountered this little primrose, its white petals couched in the white of a surprise snowfall.

Here I'd thought the groundhog would have been right -- after all, I don't think he saw any shadow the other day. And isn't that supposed to mean that winter is over?

I'm just hoping that next time I look at this little flower it'll be surrounded by green.

Goin' nowhere

Those of us who live in BC's Lower Mainland are generally blessed with not having to shovel ourselves out during the winter. Many express pity on us, as most of our precipitation falls in the form of rain, which yes, means skies that are often grey.

While today's skies aren't blue -- or even grey for that matter -- more whitish than anything, what's on the ground is definitely white.

So, what am I doing? Staying inside as much as I can (though yes, I bundled up and shoveled the walk on the odd chance the letter carrier comes through ("...neither rain nor snow nor gloom of night...??") with something for the mailbox. The radio is full of warnings, saying that roads are icy (even transit is having big problems), and cautioning everyone to stay home if we can.

It feels like a day for carbs, so pasta it shall likely be, especially if I can come up with a recipe that will want some time in the oven. And of course, a few more chapters in the novel I'm currently reading. Who knows, maybe even curling up under the covers and taking a hibernatory nap.

Not quite the usual

No poinsettia this year, but when we were walking with Nadia the dog, this little spot of brightness out in the field was impossible to ignore.

People who read this blog will know that this December has been unusual for us, one we won't forget -- ever.

I for one am looking forward to the coming days and new year being better and better and better.

Best wishes for a happy Christmas, or Hanukkah or whatever holiday you observe with those you love.

Shoulda known better...

This photo of snowdrops in a planter box is one I took just over a week ago, on Saturday, Groundhog Day. Because I couldn't see my shadow cast across the blooms, I fell prey to believing that not seeing it meant that winter was just about over -- that we wouldn't have to wait another six weeks for spring breezes to be upon us.

But oh, silly me, look at what today looks like for those same snowy snow drops in the planter. The poor things are buried past their necks. Even the straggly geranium appears to have given up.

Yesterday we celebrated a dear friend's birthday -- with a nice supper and even a homemade cheesecake. Looking outside this morning, it looked like a yard full of birthday cakes, and all of them risen higher than yesterday's celebratory dessert.

I guess this must be what I get for trying to think like a groundhog.

Ridiculous

When I was little (like, five) I used to play store. This involved getting tins from my mother's cupboards and arranging them on the steps outside the front of our house. I never sold anything, but I remember taking great pleasure in setting up the 'store' and taking some kind of strange pride in how it all looked. Plentiful, secure. Who knows.

Looking at my kitchen counter, I realized it still looks like I'm playing store -- only the display isn't on the steps outside, and the line-up doesn't consist of beans or corn or soups.

The set-up this time is an assortment of the various remedies I have tried to get through this ridiculous coughing flu, the manifestation of this winter's flu that's decided to pay me an unwelcome visit.

It probably looks as though I've decided to play drugstore. Frankly, it's nowhere near as much fun as playing 'ordinary' store. I'm just hoping I'm not going to need to rely on these supplies for much longer. But excuse me, please, while I go to find another lozenge.

Wintry thoughts

This was the view out the back door this morning. Fresh snow adding its weight to the snow that's been here for a week or so already. It's a far cry from the way the same space looks during the summer, verdant with all those salad fixin's.

In some ways, I suppose such a "Christmasy view" should put me into a bright and cheery holiday mood. In other ways, I'll admit, it depresses me. The negative effect comes when I think about the homeless, all too many of whom surround us. Where do they go when the weather's like this?

And even more depressing is the numbers that keep rolling in with just about every day's news, how many more overdoses can there be in a single night?

The fentanyl crisis has led me to a longer piece of writing -- one I'm still working on, one I'm hoping may find a broader audience than this little blog, one that might even help change things for the better. While words seem to be the only defence I have against any of these horrific situations, there are certainly too many days when words are nowhere near enough.

Yet I'm not sure what I can do beyond seeking words. And where to look for them, but to the garden -- even in winter -- for encouragement and inspiration.

Especially to the hardiest green, the kale. A lesson in survival, to be sure.

New light

Contrary to what a number of sources are reporting, this is the day when Solstice occurs in most of North America. Quick reads may suggest otherwise, as most of them seem to be citing the 22nd without noting that as a Greenwich Mean Time (okay, UTC) -- in other words, when it occurs in western Europe.

Whenever it might occur, the light won't be sudden, as we gain only seconds each day as the earth turns us toward the next seasonal marker, the Vernal or Spring Equinox.

Still, the change in light will start being noticeable soon, for sure by the time the new year arrives.

But even beyond the hours and minutes of sunlight, I am grateful for the other new light that feels as though it's shining on us -- the light of welcome being shone on the refugees arriving from Sudan, the light being cast on the Inquiry that will finally be held for Canada's lost and missing women, the light of scientific knowledge being uncloistered.

Let it shine!

Okay, enough of this winter thing!

This little snow guy seemed to be waving as I walked by, as if saying one final Hurrah for the Olympics and Team Canada.

You can trust me, I wasn't cheering when I woke up to this surprise dump of snow. Barely the previous day, I'd been cursing myself for not having my camera along -- so many hellebores and crocuses were showing their pretty little faces.

This morning has restored my faith -- not only in the beauty of nature's many faces (even snow), but also in reminding me that spring truly is on the way.

It's not all that easy to see, but towards the end of this little video, you'll see what looks like a glittery sprinkling of fresh snow. Only, that's not what it is. It's a tiny little avalanche falling down from the branches of the cedary forest that is our front yard. Frozen confetti, celebrating the end of winter.

Brrrr...

Freezing. The temperature on our little weather station is one that we don't see very often, especially not exactly zero-point-zero.

Only now it's even colder than it was. No one can pretend it isn't winter around here. It's been cold for about a week now, colder than I remember it being. Mind you, that may not mean anything, as I'm pretty good at blocking bad memories, cold being one of those conditions I like to avoid (and thus, forget).

When I put gas in my car the other day, I thought it might be a good idea to wash my windscreen. Only thing is, the squeegee wouldn't come out of the bucket where it's kept. The water had frozen around it, making a

veritable Popsicle of it.

Since then, the temp dropped further over the weekend, but has 'warmed up' today to a whopping -2 C (29 F). In fact, it's warmed sufficiently that we're getting a little bit of snow.

Pretty though that may be, I am hoping it doesn't decide to accumulate.

Looking to some facts from The Canadian Weather Trivia Calendar, I find that things certainly aren't as cold as they might be -- that on this day in 1906, it was so cold in Lethbridge, Alberta that the sheep "started eating the wool off each other's backs" and that the situation became so bad that ranchers had to make "them coats from sacks to help them survive." And yet, despite this, "About 25 sheep died a day." Temp that day was recorded as -32.2 C. According to my trusty conversion website, that's -32.96 in Fahrenheit. Yikes.

So yes, I will stay inside today, not too far from the cozy fire and write some more of those Christmas cards to friends around the world -- in places both colder and warmer than my thermometer tells me it is here.

Snow day play time

Yesterday surprised me with the arrival of snow, something we've not seen much of this winter -- a situation I must admit is pretty much fine with me.

Still, because I didn't have to go out in it, I didn't. I stayed in and did more prep towards the workshop I'll be leading at month's end.

I like to use Magnetic Poetry as a start-up exercise. Its limited vocabulary usually stymies people just enough without making them crazy with frustration. Because I'd recently found some 'extra' pieces, I resolved to divide them up and add them to the various bags I've collected.

To be fair, this means dividing them so no one gets stuck with a bag limited to the, an and for. In other words, this mean I sort the sets into categories: articles, adjectives, prepositions, etc.

It gets tricky with words that can work as more than one part of speech. Free. Is that an adjective or a verb? Spell. Is that a noun or a verb? Fly. Adjective, verb, noun? So, the sorting can get pretty complicated.

Still, it's the sort of play (another of those words -- noun, verb??) I enjoy. Especially on a day when it feels sooo much better to stay inside, while a pot of soup cooks itself slowly on the stove. Almost as much fun as those endless coloured buttons I used to love sorting, the ones from my gramma's button jar.

Styrosnow?

We've had some more snow, only this time it looks less like snow than some sort of packing material.

Not hard like hail (though that's what it looks like), just perfectly round 'flakes' (er, pellets?) that look like snowballs so G.I. Joe and Barbie could have themselves a party.

And no, Virginia, there's no such thing as climate change.

First snow

...of the year, first snow of the season.

After a successful evening in Vancouver, as part of SFU's TWS series, when I got off the bus at our local park 'n ride, a few flakes were just starting to fall.

By the time I drove home, it was really starting to fall, and I just had to walk outside and look around. The photo is a picture of our street. No tracks in the road yet, all fresh and white and new.

And no flash, just my trusty little Nikon Coolpix set on auto 'scene' and me holding my breath for the duration of the exposure. There aren't any streetlights on our road, only a few porch lights burning -- I guess for just such an occasion as this.

And then winter again

After all that lovely warm weather we experienced, we now find ourselves immersed in 'winter camping'.

Many of the roads through the mountains are closed. The photo above shows us at our campsite, a place that had been shovelled nearly clear.

So much for spring at Lake Tahoe, but almost time for April.