mumma yaga

A few days ago, Rocky disappeared, and then showed up at the field half an hour later. Since then, I have been watching him most carefully. This morning I was watching, and he went behind a car and ... was gone. I called, and whistled. No Rocky. A while later I drove to the field and walked up the middle, looking for movement. Nothing. His disappearance always sends me into a panic, because I am afraid he is dead, run over, stolen, trapped, and I won't find him! Then, he is there at my side. Where did he come from? He will be the death of me! I have now bought a GPS dog tag, which costs a lot, and then there is the cost of the app. But I hope that it will pay off, if he even gets lost one time. He is old and I worry about him going off to die, or being out and about and then dying, and I wouldn't know what, nor where. These gadgets are fallible. If someone wants to steal the dog, or the GPS tag, you are out of luck. Five coyotes. I took Rocky to the field - he will do his busin...

The Sleeping Dragon in the mist: Sun rising: K and I like to be out to see the sun rise, never and always the same. It is one of those things that I think resonate in our deepest brain, the part of ourselves that is pre-modern, that echoes back through millennia of human existence when life was precarious and the sun coming up each morning was magical, a celebration of another night of darkness survived. Moon rising: This is our house at the vineyard. It is wonderful, spacious and impractical. This post carries a nostalgia, a saying goodbye to the vineyard. Nostalgia has a bad connotation, but I think that, taken just a little of, it is allowed, as an honouring of one's sadness, part of the process of letting go, and not to be dismissed out of hand. Turkeys, come for the apples:  *****  November 12 was our first snowfall, not much but the ground was frozen enough for it to stay for a day.. Somehow the blur of tiny flakes, white rain, settling like powdered sugar on the grass, ...

 October 11 The wind has been howling in the night as if it would blow the house down. It was 15 degrees at four in the morning, but now it is down to 11 degrees. The leaves, which were splendid, have been torn from the trees in the millions. I am always astounded at the profligacy of nature, throwing a summer's work away like yesterday's newspapers. The abundance, then the destruction, so that it will go to soil for some future summer. The leaves lie years deep in the forest, making earth for a decade from now, when the trees will bring forth another season's leaves to be thrown away in that fall. Haha, I just saw the "fall" in fall. In the morning the sun hits the ridge and brings out the reds. After the winds, the trees are bare and a wintry sun sets early. The geese have suddenly taken to the sky, leaving (leaves) in a burst of urgency to be gone by first frost. The frost, like Thanksgiving, is late this year, especially since last night's warm wind. We ha...

September 22, 2024 I like September, probably because it is my birth month, but also the leftover feeling from when it marked the beginning of a new school year, pristine new notebooks and pencils, anticipation. I sit on the porch with my coffee every morning and watch the sunrise. Sometimes the clouds lie in the valley looking as if the sea has risen to flood the world. The fog creeps along the ridge so opaque.   Some mornings there are deer at the apple trees, but this morning a coyote visited and enjoyed the apples. He took one a little way from the tree and lay down to munch it, then came back for another. He was the fattest coyote I have ever seen. They are usually thin and spare. I sometimes hear them howling and yipping at night, but then Blackie, our neighbour dog, barks on the hill and they go quiet.  The trees suddenly began turning this week. We are up before the sun now and see it break over the hills. The asters are one of the few wildflowers bringing colour, pale...

September 9, 2024 Fox, Rain and I went to Brome Fair on the long weekend. (Actually, Rain and her family went every day!) It is the largest fair in Quebec, with 35,000 visitors each year. It is mainly an agricultural fair with cows, cakes, vegetables, quilts, flowers and much more brought for showing and for prizes. Tall, sturdy clydesdales and percherons clopped about, looking somehow honest and ready to work. Tractors, diggers and backhoes demonstrated their talents, and there was a wild and reckless demolition derby, that left dusty, crumpled cars dotted along the fence at sundown. There was a clown creating giant bubbles which the children had to catch before they could really take off and shine. There were crafts, frivolous toys and gadgets, and some tempting and interesting housewares, clothes and jewelry for sale. For eating, poutine, heart attack in a cardboard tray, was the most common fare, while fries, onion rings, pizza, and fried cheese and sugary dough could also be enjoy...