First Snow Magic

The first snow of winter is always magical. This year, the snow fell during the time of a fat full moon and soft pink sunrises. It cheered Squirrelboy even though he was kept indoors with a nasty cough. Faerygirl collected some in a bowl. Some years, November comes on gray and grumpy, but this winter has arrived gently and full of sweet promise. We are enjoying cocoa, the warmth of our woodburning stove, and the playfulness of our new kitten, Honey. She is a wee black furball full of fierceness. She intimidates our old one-eyed dog, Tabby and climbs up on my shoulders to take a nap. Faerygirl decided that the Lord of Dragonwood needed a kitten for his birthday, and so little Honey is now a part of our family. Squirrelboy was fit enough to return to school this morning, and he delighted in finding thin ice covering the driveway puddles. This morning's snow cover looked like a thin coating of powdered sugar over the florest floor, dry and granular. I'm happy for Squirrelboy, headed back to school. Yesterday he missed his teacher and his friends so much! He said, "school is the awesomest place on the planet, even better than McDonald's." Today the Lord of Dragonwood is taking a day off and I have not been called in to substitute teach, so I look forward to an enchanting day of welcoming the beautiful season of winter.

Creepy Night Music

The eerie whines of hunting coyotes awaken me. I go out to check the dog, who nervously presses close to me. She is afraid of them. A neighbor has told me to be careful. She says the farmers are hunting coyotes, that she saw one as large as a big dog, and dead, in the back of a local pickup truck. She usually knows what is going on in the neighborhood. I was worried about Tabby, our gentle but old dog. I'd felt her fear of other canines before, when the neighbor's dogs came over. She'd be no match for coyotes, or coydogs. This latter, dear readers, are hybridized dog-coyotes, bigger and perhaps bolder than their completely wild counterparts. We've been told they den in an old gravel quarry, not far from Dragonwood. Even in my hastily thrown-on bathrobe, the night is warm. But the golden gibbous moon lolls crazily on its side in the hazy sky, and the frog songs, so melodious earlier in the evening, have shifted into a nervous trilling. In the dark, every snap from the woods means something, as Tabby's attentive ears suggest. Something big is moving in the woods. Tabby lays across my feet, but she is not scared like she was before. She wants to be outside. I don't. The hairs on my neck gradually begin to settle. I realize I've been petting her to comfort myself as much as to reassure the dog that she is not alone. In the night, when one has a soft heart, perhaps one does these things. Love makes a person bold enough to face fears, even if it's rather foolish. I pat the dog one last time. "I'm going in," I say softly, my usual parting words to her. She watches me go calmly. Kitty Bucko races outside when I open the door, ready to prowl the roof again. And I, dear readers, slip indoors to pen this experience for you! (original written at about 2 AM last night)

April Green

It's warm in Dragonwood. Bees are visiting the crocuses and early spring wildflowers. Just yesterday, a notable green showed above the brown leaf mulch. In the field, wee beasties have left their winter homes behind. Great galls on goldenrod stalks now have holes in them, and strange pupal skins and coccoons are abandoned. Bloodroot is blooming, and the bees are quite busy. Tabby, the dog, snaps them out of the air for a crunchy snack. At the Manor, we are all quite busy ourselves, installing insulation and prepping for drywall. This weekend, we anticipate getting a good start on the drywall, with a little help from our friends. Spicebush buds are bursting into yellow stars. Faerygirl claims to have observed some tiger beetles, and the children bear the welts from their first mosquito bites. I have some peas, brassicas, and lettuces starting to emerge from the earth, in addition to my tomato, pepper, and brassica starts indoors. We also planted some rugosa roses! Every day brings new delights.