Enid
Petherick
November,
December, 2000
December
27, 2000
Last
night there was a sharp snap and crack on the roof and within seconds
a rumble as the snow cover slid and avalanched onto the ground below.
First thaw. This morning on waking, I rolled onto my back and stared straight
into the beautiful pattern created by semi-melted snow which had sagged
into undulating curves on the skylight overhead.. The only patch of snow
on the roof, creating another masterpiece in a series of constantly changing
abstracts.
December
20, 2000
Dark at 5 pm. For
several days it's been gray, cold and windy. Not much power generated
by the solar system. We decide to turn one light on and settle in for
an early evening of reading. At 6 pm the light went out due to low power
which automatically shuts off the power to save the batteries.. Change
of entertainment--chinese checkers by kerosene lamp. Thankfully tomorrow
is the shortest day of the year and from then on the days will only get
longer!
December
15, 2000
The temperature on
our back deck is -25 degrees C, but the bitter winds which came up overnight
makes the wind chill factor much more. Drifting snow means the car must
go out. I have a choice: 1) Go to town as planned and move my acrylic
paints from the studio upstairs into the root cellar, to ensure they don't
freeze, or 2) Stay home and keep the heater stoked while Ralph drives
round for the mail at the rural route box, leaves the car at the neighbours
(our nearest access to ploughed roads in winter), and walks the four kilometres
back - not enough snow for cross-country skiing, not to mention the icy
blast whipping down the valley from the north! Decision: will stay home
and keep the house cozy. Ralph will deliver the mail and the car. The
longer trip to Golden will be postponed and we hope our email friends
will be patient.
December
11, 2000
This
summer I noticed an unusual patch of color in a large slash pile left
after logging blowdown a few years ago. On close examination I was amazed
to discover a flourishing clump of Sweet William. A gift from the birds!
This stimulated me to collect a variety of dried flower seeds this fall
and sprinkle them over the pile, hoping to aid a process nature had begun.
Today I picked the last dried heads from the potted Marigolds in my studio.
Next spring I will add these seeds to the slash pile as well. I'm not
sure the seed is fertile from these hybrid plants but no matter - I now
have three bowls of bright yellow petals (seed still attached) on the
kitchen window sill and the kitchen is aromatic with the pungent scent
of Marigolds. Mmmm, instant pot-pourri.
December
8, 2000
Last
night we drove the ten kilometres to pick up our mail. Our RL Johnson
print had arrived. This morning I framed it, and "Ladders to Love"
now emanates animatic energy and good vibes from the wall above our dining
table. Many thanks, Rick.
December
1, 2000
Our
bi-monthly trip to Golden today. My art supplies which I ordered through
the Columbia Basin Trust grant were due and we had been hoping that the
heavy snow would hold off until they arrived. Today the art supplies were
at the bus depot, and opportunely, a couple of unexpected boxes from our
daughters. Coming home after dark we found the path between the parking
area and the house lit by a bright moon. Ralph made five trips by wheelbarrow
transporting the crates, while I got the wood heater going and warmed
supper on it. Now let it snow!!
November 26, 2000
We
went walking this morning. It was an ideal time to read tracks after a
light snowfall last night. We started along the bench above the river
following the upper lane.
Immediately
behind the house we followed the tracks of two coyotes till they disappeared
into the trees. A squirrel had taken great leaps across the laneway and
overlaying these was a larger track - possibly marten. Drama there. Further
on, a mouse had left a complicated maze of tracks and in an open patch
the design looped and twisted around and over itself many times. We laughed
and speculated: Was this a young 'Dennis the Menace' mouse enjoying its
first winter experience? Or perhaps a mother, hustling to collect an assortment
of seeds from the grass and weeds poking up through the snow. Or maybe
a pair of lovers chasing in reckless abandon?
Where our lane met the road we picked up coyote tracks again and followed them to the river. We saw where deer had slipped and skidded across the ice of a side channel. A hole midstream showed where a leg had broken through. We crossed a gravel bar to the river and checked to see if there were any late stragglers of kokanee. Nothing.
So the run is finished for another year. I found a sandbar where the grains were washed and sorted by the river - perfect material for my collage so I scooped off the top layer into a plastic bag brought along for just such an eventuality. Ralph meanwhile roamed the bank for driftwood and future building material. From the river we walked along a straight stretch on the old road below our house. We had traveled full circle. I looked back the way we had come. Our tracks meandered drunkenly. I thought of the haphazard and circuitous route we had walked...Is that raven up there laughing at us?
November
20, 2000
I
watched a bald eagle in a tree top across the river. I did not see it
arrive or leave but I know it sat there at least 20 minutes, its body
absolutely still as it slowly swiveled its head from side to side scanning
the river and forest floor below. I envy that patience.
)
Enid Petherick
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