mumma yaga

May 31 In just a few weeks this has happened. Lush. The beautiful jack-in-the-pulpit: before this spring I had only ever seen one or two of these, in the woods of Ontario. The flower grows beneath the leaves, which look like large trillium leaves, three to a stem. ***** Mumma: "Doesn't it seem to you that the mountains are sometimes so big and close and other times so small and far away?" K: "No." ***** I have had dogs for twenty-one years: one, then two, then three, then two, then just Fig. I used to wonder why someone who lost a dog did not want to get another even after a few months. But now I understand, at least in part. It is not so much the loss and grief. For me it is about being tired and perhaps selfish. For a while I would like to be taking care of no-one but K and myself. I have been caring for, feeding, cleaning for, working for others since I was eighteen. The weight of that, finally lifted from my shoulders, was a lot, I suddenly see, at times con

 May 29 The cows came mooing and mooing up our hill to spend a few weeks here. The farmer rotates the herd around several properties during the summer. Later they will be taken over to Rain and Tal's farm. This morning they are gathered by the old barn. One is nibbling on the wise witch. There are babies, too. When I walk out to see them they watch me. They will probably get used to us soon and pay no attention once they know we don't mean harm. Do we have herd immunity? ***** Rain and I buried Fig by the chicken house on Thursday. It is near where he liked to go and drink from the little stream that ran by there early in the spring. It is dry now unless we get a heavy rain. He is surrounded by sensitive ferns under a young willow. I wanted him near the house rather than over near the ridge stream. We put a cairn over the grave, because it wasn't very deep. We ran into a big rock before we dug too far. I walked to the ridge on Thursday, missing Fig. As I walked down the mea

May 26 Sometime in the night Fig called to me and I gathered him up and took him to bed with me. He died while I slept with him cuddled against my chest.  We spent yesterday sitting on the porch watching the clouds and the birds. It was a good day. Fig lay on the grass or sat in my lap, or dozed on a blanket by my chair. From time to time he drank from his water dish that I put by him. I asked the witches to call his spirit home.  I carried him to the stream in the afternoon and he had a last drink of the mountain water. He was as small and frail as a newborn lamb in my arms. My thoughts today will be with Rain who was always Fig's favorite. She came to sit with us in the afternoon. She was glad that we weren't far away in Toronto.  Today will be another day of not knowing. Not knowing what to do, not knowing what I will think and feel.  Mumma Yaga

 May 25 Fig is going to die soon. He weighs less than half what he weighed in September. He has diabetes, which means he cannot, without insulin shots (which he isn't getting), keep enough sugar in his bloodstream to keep his body alive. He has a heart malfunction called a murmur which means he can't pump enough blood through his lungs to keep them functioning well, so he coughs, but much more in the city than here. He has been hungry all the time because of the diabetes. But he stopped eating on Sunday. He even refuses the treats in which I used to put his pain medicine. Can he smell the medicine and does it taste yucky? I don't sense that he is in pain: I hope that he isn't. I understand now why some who care for old dogs don't put them down. They are waiting, hoping their loved one will die at home, or until they can say for sure: this is where it shall end. How can I tell? I have to wait until I know. Fig can't keep water down any more. This morning he is no

 May 22 The green forest. More violets - these are different, taller and with stems from which the leaves branch, rather than forming a crown from the root. White and yellow, although I think they are the same plant.       ***** The long weekend: a weekend of Canadian rituals, with gardening first up: traditionally, now that the frost is behind us (we hope!), we plant our flowers and vegetable seedlings on this first holiday weekend. The nurseries are swarmed by people at the height of their gardening enthusiasm, although I hope many will put off this somewhat less-than-essential shopping for this year. Although I am a haphazard gardener, when I'm at home, I plunge in at this time of year, clearing fall debris, delighting in the returning perennials, trimming bushes and seeding the bald patches of lawn. Pre-pandemic, I took Indre to the nursery to find plants that she could take care of and we prepared a little garden for her. But once this flurry of green-thumb activity is past, I

 May 20 A different trillium! Smaller than the white ones in Ontario and the first white I have seen here.  The common polypody fern: the first you learn. And this is the only polypody I've seen here.  It is 30 degrees! I took Fig to the stream. It is flowing very lightly since we have had only 6 mm of rain in almost a week. But so green - the trees are in full leaf suddenly! The ferns are rapidly developing everywhere . They are a dominant plant type in these woods. There are even groves in direct sun in the meadow. There are fragile pale green ones coming up outside the kitchen window and a thousand tiny one-frond babies everywhere in the woods. Fig and I were surprised to hear a pair of Canada geese honking aggressively as we reached the crest of the ridge pond. There they were with four little goslings corralled between them. They didn't stop their noise until we left, which we did before they got brave and came for Fig, who, without hesitation, trotted down to stand in the

May 16 The Wise Witch, blossoms in her hair.  There is more green every day. The distant hills show green now. I am sitting on the porch, warm enough in shirtsleeves.The raven is circling the ridge and croaking. There is a pair of crows too, nesting nearby. The song sparrow is nesting here, maybe two pairs, since I seem to hear several. The yellow-shafted flicker is staying here. I have seen white-throated sparrows and another with a brown cap that I can't identify. They have been around for a few days now, but I don't know if they will stay or go father north. Yesterday there was a goldfinch in the apple tree by the barn. And there has been a hummingbird around for two or three days. The tree swallow is coming around daily with his mate - they still seem to want to harass the bluebirds, one of whom is usually on guard while they are here. We see hairy woodpeckers (that's their name, they don't have hair) whenever we are in the woods. We hear one on the ridge often. The