this morning as i went about my usual routine–school, coffee shop, bank, post office, home–i decided to pick up whatever caught my attention and make an assemblage out of whatever i found. i make this circuit five days a week, and am usually on autopilot: listening to an audio book, sipping coffee, and rubbing my puggle’s ear. but today, because i was looking, this well trodden route felt all new. like i had just come home from an extended stay away.

collection of winter treasures from one minnesota morning in january

saint paul, minnesota

as some of you already know, i found my way to instagram only about six months ago.  along with some photos of my impertinent chicken, glimmer, i also post many behind-the-scenes setups for my STILL blog images. i was getting so many technique questions via email, that it made sense to show how low-tech my studio and gear actually are.

today i was working solo, with no hubby or kids, otherwise it would have been a perfect day for a behind-the-scenes shot. i woke up to snow softly falling, and a fresh three-inch blanket of white. so i headed out with white tag board, tripod, and camera. at one point i was so deep in snow it was melting down the small of my back. a perfect insta-moment if ever there was one.

above is my old friend burdock: major nuisance to pet owners and wool wearers worldwide, and the original inspiration for velcro.

saint paul, minnesota

p.s. you can find me on instagram here

i asked my son yesterday day if he wanted to go for a walk with me to to look for STILL blog treasures. he replied, “wait, i have something for you,” and he ran into his bedroom and came back with this bone. “a bird bone,” he proudly announced, “see, it’s hollow.” we went for a walk anyway and, in the end, found nothing more interesting than his bird bone. now i am curious what else is hiding in his ten-year-old boy’s room. just not that curious.

bird bone (probably gull)

grand marais harbor beach, grand marais, minnesota

do you have a couple of minutes? because this photo needs a little extra explanation.  on one hand, this is the fur, probably tail fur, of an ordinary and very common eastern gray squirrel. on the other hand, it stands for one of those rare moments when several different parts of your life converge.

i had been reading the book “on looking: eleven walks with expert eyes” by alexandra horowitz. in the book, the author goes on a ramble about squirrels, how ubiquitous they are, how no one really knows much about them, how wildlife experts never do dissertations on squirrels. well, i live on a heavily wooded acre that is teeming with both gray and red squirrels. and as i read this passage, it occurred to me that i know nothing about these gregarious neighbors of mine, except that the ass-kicking little red squirrels can be maddeningly loud right around sunrise in the summer, when i sleep with open windows.  it’s the classic case of not seeing what’s right in front of you. so as i read, i started feeling more and more sheepish about my lack of respect for these fellow residents of my tiny corner of the world. as part of her ramble, alexandra mentions that gray squirrels have two breeding seasons per year, and one of them starts on the winter solstice.  this caught my attention, because here we were, only a few days past the solstice, and the squirrels had been especially active outside my bedroom window, but I had not put together: active squirrels = mating squirrels. that was my first ah-ha!

then a couple of days later, on the way up our driveway to pick up my son at school, i had to stop because a red-shouldered hawk was standing on something in the middle of the path, with no intention of taking flight.  i waited pretty gladly, because a hawk close up is never something you complain about. the hawk was looking at me, looking at its feet, looking at me, looking at its feet, and finally it picked up a limp rag of gray fur and flew off.  so, of course, i had to get out and inspect the remains. the hawk had clearly done swift and clean work in eviscerating the squirrel.  there was almost no evidence of struggle or blood.  just the cleanly removed entrails, and one small tuft of fur.

as i drove off to get my son at school, i had a second ah-ha: the squirrels are in mating season.  they are careless and distracted (read: horny), like those poor desperate whitetail bucks in the rut. the hawk had landed on a male squirrel with something quite other than caution on his mind. it suddenly seemed fitting that the squirrel mating season conveniently arrives every year on or near the shortest day of the year, when the overwintering birds in our northern climates are most in need. a few more dots connected. a little bit of information and a little bit of guessing, and now i feel like a better neighbor.

tail fur of the eastern gray squirrel

my driveway, saint paul, minnesota