In the deep mid winter...

Snow is well and truly here as I write... some drifts in front of the house are about four feet deep. 
The birds and wildlife flurry around, getting through pounds of nuts every few days.
The hawk came by the other day, fluffed up against the wind.

The colors this time of year are gorgeous... subtle hues of brown and grey and white against the soft lines of the hills.
Nicholas

The pink-golden of dawn rises over the mountains to the east and I am reminded of the approaching Winter Solstice, the shortest day, giving way to longer light. Every morning, the sky offers a gift for reflection, an opportunity for renewal, a reminder of the gift of awakening.

As the walls of the gorges, usually rushing with water, respond to the colder temperatures, creating their own living sculpture; I find I am deeply in awe of water...its ability to move from frozen, to liquid, to vapour. And in observing this quality, my mind goes to my studies of Chinese Medicine. The Water Element, in 5-Element Theory, is associated with the fear of the unknown, akin to pregnancy and the necessity of trusting that things are being formed, becoming whole, even when we are not able to fully see or comprehend them. 

This ice will gave way to water, the water will evaporate in the heat of summer's sun and with next winter the ice will return, and the cycle shall repeat itself anew....and so, to, my life. 

Judy

Christmas comes...

We've dressed our first Christmas Tree here, a fabulous find from Balsam Hill in Colorado and, with the reflections in the windows, it seems like we are surrounded by light.

Meanwhile, the goldfinches are having fun hitching a ride on the wind sculpture from time to time. Its almost as if they are doing it just for fun! 

Our rabbits have taken a liking to the carrot pieces we put out on the patio...and the ravens have fallen in love with the peanuts.

Further away, snow lies on the open field behind us...and the other morning we saw a fox diving into the crisp morning snow, desperately trying to find a mouse.












Nicholas



 It seemed there was a slight negotiation going on with the male and female bluebirds yesterday morning...I know it is slight anthropomorphism for me to assume there is communication between them, as I would understand it...but it certainly seems so....

It also seems that they really enjoy perching on top of the boxes, claiming their territory and getting a perspective on the rest of our garden inhabitants...the brilliance of their feathers is pure joy, especially against the white of the snow-covered earth....

We were delighted to see them this week, but also a little surprised that they were still with us in winter...we stopped into the Cornell Ornithology Lab to get some expert advice...they told us that bluebirds will brood together in a nesting box throughout winter, before building nests and reproducing in the spring....

We have purchased a heated birdbath...I know...and are feeling blessed by the beauty of these precious winged visitors during our first winter in our home....

Judy

Winged visitors...

Our new blue bird nesting box has attracted the interest if two Bluebird couples! So its likely we'll have to get another....
here is the male bird at the end of the garden.

They are gorgeous birds and let's hope they nest!

Last weekend we had a surprise visit from my brother in law... he'd taken two flights from Indianapolis to get here and, returning, flown into the face of the severe storm front that battered much of the Midwest that weekend. But we had a fabulous 24 hour visit, including trips to Ithaca and Taughannock Falls, the farmers' market and Cornell's Arboretum.

Nicholas

What a joy to see four bluebirds in our garden this week!!!

Great friends, Paul and Cindi, had told us these lovely little ones were here; but all of us were surprised that they might still remain as the season turned. Reading about them, it seems if they find a source of food (berries and fruits in winter) and water, they will remain in the cold north. So...how happy are we to have planted a varietal of crabapple they seem to really enjoy...

This is one of the females, and from the chair in our living room we were able to watch her feasting on the ripened crab apples. They also enjoy the berries on the honeysuckles and service berries we have planted. 

Moments after this photograph was taken Nicholas said, "Look! Look!" as he pointed to the end of the garden. Two bluebirds were investigating the box, in and out they popped..with four birds, two males and two females, we have decided to put a second box up this week...thank heavens the Cornell Ornithology Lab sells them and can advise us as to placement! We shall also be investing in a heated birdbath...as the winter cold proves difficult for all our feathered friends.

No more sitting on a fence about where to live! For them or for us...

Judy

First signs of winter...

I am writing this at 7 am, watching three deer walk slowly across the field across the creek. We've had our first snow, which lasted for a few days and has now melted. The angle of the sunlight is glorious at this time of year, lending an array of colour across the hills: muted ochres, rusts, tertiary greys... 

The other evening the setting sun sent fingers of orange into the clouds...

 And a few days before, the hawk had sat quietly in the tree at the bottom of the garden for a long while.

Nicholas

Though the vast majority of leaves have fallen now, there is a stand of tamarack (larch) trees to our west which glow like golden orbs in the early morning light. The tamarack, the Algonquin Indian name for the larch, is a conifer, but in order to preserve its energy, it sheds its pine-like needles in very late autumn, prompting me to examine my own relationship to less light, cold snowy weather, and more challenging environmental factors. Directly opposite our home, are  the glistening white trunks of the canoe bark birches....absolutely stunning.

The Algonquin used the roots of tamarack to sew together their birch bark canoes, Longfellow writes about this in "The Song of Hiawatha".  In the poem, Hiawatha asks the tree's permission before he uses its roots, much as we asked permission to dig in this earth before we began to build.

There are such gifts given to us each and every day with the dance of sun and cloud, the reflections and shadows....the memories of all those who came before us, the hopes of all that are yet to come.

Daily, we are reminded of the blessings we are privileged to enjoy....

Judy

Ravens!

With the changing of the seasons, there is a distinct shift in the wildlife in and about the garden. Ravens have appeared... hopping about for bread and, occasionally, moistening the bread in the water bowl. All the red-winged blackbirds have gone and the mourning doves have gathered in a huge flock of about 50 birds. But they are quiet at this time of year.
Sunset the other day was glorious and the Lyman Whitaker sculpture looked wonderful against the sky!

Nicholas

Recently two new birds have joined us in the garden. At first glance, this might seem that I am referring to a crow...but this bird is nearly 15 inches tall and often has a partner in tow. I mentioned the size of these beautiful black birds to a colleague and she said, "Those aren't crows you have visiting...they are ravens..."

Ravens...

As a lover of the ancient Druids, keepers of stories and holders of wisdom...this caught my attention to be sure. Ravens, for the Druids, were associated with healing as well as the gift of intuition...seeing, if you will.

Nicholas and I have been spending quite a lot of time giving thanks for the animals and birds that visit us on a daily basis and, as we have begun to dwell here on this land, we feel that the light, the shadow, the wind, the rain, the sunshine...and now, the living creatures, all have gifts for us...all are reminders of the Divine in the everyday, all encourage and invite us to explore within ourselves the attributes and gifts they invoke.

Thank you, Raven, for your intelligence and your patience. As you took this stale piece of bread to the bird bath, you immersed it until it was soft enough to eat, in so doing, you could break it into pieces small enough for you to digest. What a wonderful reminder for my own life this morning...

Judy

Autumnal Light

The light at this time of the year is gorgeous. Morning light casting long shadows across the fields; evening light lengthening into a misty blue.
The chipmunks are gathering food for the winter...dashing off into their secret hideouts somewhere behind the fence.
Most of the apples have fallen from the tree beside the creek to be snatched up by the deer and the woodchucks.
We now have a flock of about fifty mourning doves who gather in the garden from time to time, sunning themselves and nestling into the gravel. They are often accompanied by a similar number of sparrows who feed cooperatively with them and then, all of a sudden, dash off into the trees.

Nicholas

The hills in the distance are beginning to be peppered with the changing foliage of sugar maples, birches and oaks....the golds and russets dancing alongside the deep evergreens...I love autumn, always have.

I find I am not alone in this, as it is also the season of ripening apples...these gentle neighbours enjoyed a number of the sweet red delights this morning...

And these aren't the only residents of our local community interested in apples. Today begins Ithaca's Apple Festival and we, along with hundreds of others, will be sampling the produce as well as listening to the music on offer, autumnal delights to be sure.

Judy

Hummingbird Migration...

I managed to spot a ruby-throated hummingbird inspecting a rose the other day! I suspect its on its way South now, as we haven't seen it for a while though.

Our bee balm plant is well past its best now and there is precious little nectar left.
The rabbits have been crazy...running in and out of the bushes and skipping around like mad things.
There is a real sense of impending autumn now as colours soften and blossoms fade.
Nicholas

The high humidity and temperatures of late August days give way to massive thunderstorms as clouds, heavy-laden with moisture, open and drench the earth. This is the view to the distant hills, beyond the fields, behind our home, where we, with front row seats view the unfolding drama, as the storms gather and the skies open.

The late-blossoming flowers pepper the landscape with shades of deep gold and pink, and the apples are falling from the trees, providing a breakfast feast for a deer and her faun in the early morning hours. This week has reminded me of my younger years in the far western part of New York state, where tonight we would have stopped in a little village called Oramel to get a root beer float at the Wheel Inn, before going to see the Rushford Labor Day fireworks. It was always the last of the pre-school celebrations... I loved it...

Tonight, there are no fireworks, but tomorrow...I do go back into the classroom. It feels comfortingly familiar. For me, with parents who were teachers, the new year always begins in September, never in January. 

And, in honor of this recognition, here is a sky that presented itself following one of those storms, nature's fireworks, nature's extraordinary flashes of colour and majesty and extraordinary light...

I am astonished by the grandeur, reminded, once again that in remaining observant, in seeking stillness, there is reward beyond measure.

Judy