Mosquitoes
Though disappointed they were here so soon, I had been happy to exchange the snow for the company of mosquitoes. But clearly I had forgotten how irritating the little buggers were.
Besides, when I say little, that does not quite do justice to the dimensions of these flying tyrannosaurs. I guess I could more accurately liken them to modern day pterodactyls, but that doesn't quite convey the size of their bloody teeth.
Pre-season bugs are generally a little later, lazier, and spend their time procreating, not preying on people and dogs. But this year they not only bite like undernourished domestic animals, they are flying incognito with no buzzer.
Like a van with no back-up alarm. There is no warning, you simply look down and bingo, there they are, happily chewing down, sucking back an annual donation to the food bank, depleting your iron resources, eating your insides, and worst of all gifting you with a welt the size of an acorn, that feels like someone has stuffed a small bean bag under your skin.
Not to mention the itching that lasts so long it feels as if it will be with you for the rest of your life. And if I am endeavouring to honestly communicate my current frustration, I should mention the sleeplessness that accompanies trying to keep up with the scratching required to service 50 bloody mosquito bites!
Groan, will my immune system never get used to this annual assault? I don't see Canadians reacting to them this way, and have to assume it is because I am foreign.
To make matters worse, I have unwittingly trained a team of Olympic athletes on my evening runs with the girls. A little pack of mosquitoes pursue me from the door of the cabin, all the way down Wiseman Road and back.
Granted it does motivate me to run faster, and my little groupies keep me jogging when I might otherwise give up and walk the rest of the way. I would definitely take a coronary arrest over being malled by a group of highly trained mosquitoes.
The whole picture is just wrong.
Bees die if they sting you; I can respect that. These bugs only die if you are quick enough to notice the attack is in progress, and smoke them while attached. Otherwise it is like an air-raid, and you swat at them as they float by. Irritatingly they are a little too flimsy, and an overly zealous swipe creates a back draft, blowing the little buggers out of reach.
Other bugs help pollination, pest control, etc. What do mosquitoes do exactly? How do they earn their keep in the circle of contribution?
The only thing I have seen excited by their presence are dragon flies.
And therein lies the solution. I am going to start BC's first dragon fly farm.
It definitely will not cost me anything to feed those cute little insect helicopters.
Truly mosquitoes are quite depressing.
For my sanity I have to conclude they were a thoughtful mechanism to help us appreciate the return of winter in 6 months.
Please, bring back the bloody snow! ...[Read More]
Lakeside
For the last 5 months I have seen very little of the property out here. Not by design, but everything has been under the cover of a blanket of snow.
Once you get into late December, if you have not already broken trails into certain areas, the task becomes nearly impossible.
Like trying to learn a language later in life; forging linguistic pathways your brain does not want to accommodate, or is simply no longer capable of.
It was with new eyes, and fresh excitement that I found myself wandering around the lake not too far from the cabin. With the snow now gone, it suddenly occurred to me that our options for exploring were no longer limited to the beaten path to and from the gate.
The girls were equally excited to come through the patch of trees that skirt the lake edge and take in the bonnie waterfront circling away from us on each side. A flurry of ducks that have been subject to no intrusions since their arrival, moved on as if they had never seen people or dogs before; their presence and flight just making the scene more idyllic.
It was with growing excitement that I wandered around the lake, exploring the topography that you can see only at this time of year. That really brief window of opportunity between melted snow and re-vegetation; before the tangle of greenery and brush obscures what is under foot once more.
This year should see ample time to branch out from the cabin with a power saw, some imagination, and plenty of ambition to open up some of these beautiful areas for recreation.
Knowing now what winter requires of us out here, I will be able to focus my preparations in that regard and I hope to streamline the process. There will be no floundering or worrying, just a couple must do tasks.
The summer and fall will be free to explore what else the property has to offer, and build on what is here.
Now I have the tools, and a good base to work from.
All I have to do is learn how to live with the bloody bugs! ...[Read More]
Skunked
This last week has born witness to at least two skunk sitings.
Breagha, still leash bound, has not been at liberty to cause any emergency appointments at the dog spa, but River has yet to learn that these little land mines are not to be trifled with.
Despite the bizarre, effeminate way they jostle around, long hair swinging in tassels, tail floating behind them like the wispy trails of a deadly jellyfish, I have a deep sense of foreboding when I see one. ...[Read More]
Spring Visitors
It is really exciting to hear geese overhead.
Squawking and cackling, and completely ignoring the silence that fell on this place with the first blanket of snow, and that has been with us now for months on end. The cacophany of noise bought in on the wings of these spring messengers is in stark contrast to the silence of winter.
They chatter overhead, with no respect for the silence, bringing with them a rebellion. Having flown so far for a change of scenery, they boldly complain about the white landscapes, cold temperatures and difficult living. I welcome both their presence, and their impatience. ...[Read More]
Silence
Sometimes all falls silent.
The bridge-workers leave, and the highway shuts down. On those occasions this winter when the highway was closed, and the bridge was abandoned, it would be as if the girls and I had this place all to ourselves.
We wandered around in snow boots and winter gear. Stopping every now and then to strain to hear whether or not life moved outside of our little world. It was always a really exciting feeling to have that deep sense of peace and quiet, when everything was still for those wonderful few hours, or sometimes even a full day. ...[Read More]
