200413 hawk creek painting storm

 

cooper's hawk in the maple april 2020

monday morning: 13 april. it rained all night and there is a swamp in the back yard around the cedar tree. i guess the ground is saturated. it’s so warm and still. the weather channel is warning of high winds coming from colorado, but, is that really essential weather? seems to me we could get by without it until the border opens again.
indre, k and i went to the creek to see how in-flood it was. we saw a robin gathering dead grasses in its beak - more and more until i thought it would drop them - and we watched it fly up to a tree nearby. there against the trunk was the beginnings of a nicely-placed nest.
in the pandemic, we have more time for robins.

i was sifting through some papers, (there's time now...) and came across an emergency list for the car. when we lived in alberta, emergency supplies for the car were essential. 40 below f. was not unusual. if you got stuck far from anywhere (we're talking 10 minutes walk if you're not dressed for it.), you might wait a good while before someone came along or you could go for help. Even if we'd had cell phones, which we didn't, you might not, even today, always get a signal.
so we carried blankets, extra gloves and hats, boots if we weren't already wearing them. and a candle and matches, because a candle flame can keep the car interior warm if your engine is disabled - crack open a window for air. chocolate, because that's always a good idea! and it gives you energy to keep warm, and a shovel. i still carry these here in toronto. a flashlight too, and a tire pump but it plugs into the car. oh, and a bit of cash maybe. (i really have read a lot of apocalypse books...)
safety information is everywhere, every season there is a new just-the-same article in the papers, of the hazards of the coming months, whether it's snow and ice or sun and bicycles. if you shop at canadian tire the aisles remind you at every turn of more gadgets you need for home and car. (gotta love that store!) but i am not sure we don't take our safeness for granted sometimes.

after lunch: we have spread a big plastic cover on the big table and put out paints and paper and brushes. nick is overseeing the project. how often in olden times did we have the time for a real painting project? on saturday we were coloring boiled eggs and then painting pictures with the egg-colouring water! [did I mention this already?]
the children respond to the new pace, too, influenced by the relaxed ambience: these new slow swells of time that move us through the day. the extra stress of uncertainty and fear, of restricted socializing, are balanced a little by this and other unexpected blessings we are discovering.

later: the storm has come: windy and dark, and colder. this morning the female cooper's hawk flew right over my head to land in our front maple. she stood on a branch, hopped to a thinner branch and a thinner, and fluttered there to balance, then gingerly reached down to break a little twig from the end of the branch. regaining her footing, she plotted a path up through the branches and coasted over my head back to her nest. now i wonder if she was still building or actually reinforcing the nest for the storm. they must know a big wind is coming.