the word sapling sounds so spring-like that i’m not sure i can let myself use it here. we are still eight weeks away from spring in minnseota. everyone is talking about it already. how we deserve an early spring after this trying winter. but i don’t believe in that kind of karma, so i’m going to call these willow whips, and just assume we’re still going to take some more punishment.
bare young river willow
rice creek regional trail, saint paul, minnesota
two birches have just made a secret pact. it is almost official. we will never know the details of their secret handshake. later they will drink martinis in a post-negotiation glow, sitting in a comfortable corner of a dark bar, speaking birch.
river birch catkins
rice creek regional trail, saint paul, minnesota
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I think that I would like to learn to speak “birch”. Your blog is my zen for the day. It is a masterpiece!
Thank you.reply
most of you know by now that rice creek regional trail is one of my favorite places to walk. it is not the prettiest walk (vadnais lake), nor the nearest (snail lake), nor the most varied (pike island). but it is the least used. which means that i can, more days than not, let my entitled puggle walk off-leash. we’re in the mid-february doldrums around here, and i am convinced every day, as I pull into the parking lot and grab leash and poop bags from the center console, that everything i’m about to see has already been picked and identified and featured on still blog. but yet again today, jack and i came home, happy and pleasantly winded, one of us with empty bowels, the other with three new treasures.
twig from an unidentified february trailside shrub
rice creek regional trail, saint paul, minnesota
this is our first winter as chicken owners. and it’s been a doozy. we were told by several sources that our girls would lay fewer eggs in the winter–something that supposedly has more to do with lack of daylight than cold temperatures. well, our pampered troopers, with their heat lamps and lights on timers, and, i will admit, occasional morning oatmeal with butter and organic heavy whipping cream, continued their daily laying right through the polar vortex. we were so proud. then, this morning, we found the above three eggs all in the same nesting box. looks like we might need to call a plumber.
three golden-buff chicken eggs (#glimmer)
from our chicken coop, saint paul, minnesota
p.s. my husband, steve, has recently started a foodie instagram feed. in it you will find several of the egg dishes we have been perfecting since we got chickens. you can check it out here if you are interested.
