As I write this the late afternoon sun is pinging off of the edges of the glass in the window of my house.
Circling the room, like a bird in flight let loose from it’s cage.
Dancing off of the walls, scattering gems and prisms of glittering colors that cling to the ceiling and slide down the walls.
Out past the window the swaying sun beams filter through branches of towering fir trees.
Laying a scorching bright light that is bent off of ice patches without melting anything.
Soon the sun will be sinking fast into the cold, snow covered dark blue mountains.
I want to wave, lift my hand, and wish it a good trip, but something always holds me back.
My brain forms words that my mouth won’t say.
Please stay for a little while, each day you leave earlier.
You’re a good friend who’s short visits are never long enough at this time of year.
One who is walked to the door with that air of regret wafting in the cold air behind them because they couldn’t extend their stay.
Not like some.
Those who overstay their welcome, such as Winter.
It’s return visit booked a few weeks from now, like a unwanted guest, we can’t truthfully say that we would like Winter to stay as long as it intends.
Oh sure, we will primp the guest room, after all courtesy demands that we at least maintain a certain level of welcoming smiles, and happy greetings. All for a guest who keeps the hot water too cold, and leaves a ring of frost around the windows in the morning.
It’s not that we don’t like this season, it’s just that Winter overstays, won’t leave, despite all of our gentle reminders in February, and rather pointed comments in March.
Can’t Winter take a hint?
We are not running a Bed and Breakfast for the Seasons, move on, hope that you have enjoyed your stay.
Hope you enjoyed your stay, come again…just leave your next visit for a while.
Sun going down signifies the time when the ground feeding quail, and cooing doves move to the feeders. A frantic dash from front yard to back, pecking and darting swiftly from overloaded dish to dish. It’s a feast legendary among birds. a small price to pay for the enjoyment we get out of watching them.
Even Phil the flirting pheasant graces us with his occasional presence, holding court without his hens, royally coloured glamorous feathers gleaming in the setting sun.
Suet cakes high in wire cages, rough bark catering to those with clinging claws. Fence posts below to act like inanimate air traffic controllers, a place to land, hang around, to wait in a holding pattern of whirling feathers until it’s your turn. A winged hierarchy disobeyed only when daring flying feathers and much squawking.
No one hangs around here after dusk, too many predators, it’s eat and run, then hide, hope to survive both the cold, and the hunters.
We indiscriminately feed all and sundry, be they feathered, or fur covered. Bright orange squat pumpkins waiting in the garage for the signs of visiting deer who’s first visit is the composter for a appetizer, before dining delicately on bird seed in the front.
I have tarried longer then I thought while writing this, the house cooling down quickly, a parting gift from the sun. I would much prefer wine, chocolates, or even some seasoned sea salt.
The cat snores most indelicately under a warm blanket, completely comfortable with my absence, no warm body needed after the addition of a hot water bottle.
Spoiled, you might say?
Not him, our chaser of feline dreams.
No fan of our winters up here, wishing only for the front door to be opened, and then quickly shut when he realizes that the long memories of warm summer days spent lapping up heat are just that.
Once a outdoor loving, snow tolerant, fur bundled kitty, he is now a happily domesticated lap cat, as long as there is somewhere warm to sleep, and a full dish of food.
A small price to pay for warmth, and constantly attentive doormen.
Today we celebrate our 3 year anniversary of arriving in the Okanagan to live out our Muddy Boot Dreams.
One large moving van, one small SUV, packed so tightly there wasn’t even room for a sneeze, lots of sad goodbyes, and one sleeping on my lap all the way up here kitty. A cold weather welcome into the warm hearts of our family, and a snowfall the next morning to welcome us home.
It’s something we had dreamed of for such a long time, what a wonderful feeling to be on this side of the waiting, to be where we have always felt was “home.”
This is simply the most beautiful place to live, and I am grateful that we are able to be here with family, and friends, furry and fleshed.
A dream come true.
Thanks so much for coming along for the journey, and as it continues….