A Roll in the Clay

Turds... 

(and other discoveries under the snow)

Turds. Nuf said.

They're the bane of my garden and about the only thing that invokes murderous thoughts. Piles of their perfect, spherical turds decorate my backyard like pigeon poop on a windshield. As the snow melts, I'm reminded of his (or her) omnipresence. My husband swears one particularly fat one (who likes to chill on our patio frequently) flips me off every time he sees me. I send the dog out, she loves a good chase, yelling "Get that rabbit!" and watch delightfully as she rips through the yard, zigging and zagging until he and his little white tail disappear under the fence. Next time I mumble, next time. Is that bad? 

Pussy willow catkins

The pussy willow trees in the back corner of my yard are fuzzy and white, kinda like that darn rabbit's tail, but enough about the rabbit. They should be humming soon with honeybees and we'll enjoy standing among the trees as they go about their business, completely undisturbed by our presence. It's wonderful.
 

A new critter has come to town.

During my backyard walkabout yesterday, I discovered an interesting labyrinth that lay hidden until the snow melted and ran from my patio to the veggie boxes. Voles. Great. These mice-like rodents run trails beneath the snow in search of food like tree bark and shrub branches. Good thing I wrapped the trunk of my tiny Little Twist cherry tree, whose bark would be a perfect delicacy, before the snow arrived. Have to admit I kinda like the backward "S" shape of his trail.

And since I started with turds, I'll end with them. Yesterday marked my traditional poop pickup, where I tip-toe and jump around the yard on the first warm day after the snow has melted, shovel and bags in hand, to pick up all the lovely presents my dog left but that became covered with snow. Yep, that's right. Those two bags in the foreground are full and I was just finishing up when my daughter snapped this. As I tied this last bag, Stella (my dog named so my husband could channel his inner Marlon Brando) meandered to the back of the yard and took a dump. I think she flipped me off too!