the Cranes are back!

more journal work,

The Sand hill Cranes are back.

Their prehistoric cries can be heard for miles, a sound like nothing else we hear in this area.

We had a group of six fly past our balcony this morning, its the most unusual experience to have them fly past at our eye level, its hard to explain, we are over 100 feet in the up, (our building) we are on the top floor,  you feel like you could reach out and touch them.

When they call at this level and so close to us you would swear your were in a Jurassic Park movie!

I love it!

The farmers do not like them, they trample the hay fields, destroy crops but its illegal to harm them so they are safe. 

My son and his at the time girl friend found a baby Sand hill wandering on the road near our house on the lake.Of course they brought it home, critter saving runs in this family.

I told them to take it back where they found it, drive a distance away and watch , they did and the Mother Crane came out of the swampy area and took the baby back into the bog.

They are smart birds, a bog is hard traveling in so by nesting in the dense undergrowth of the boggy area it meant harder time for predators to kill their young.

I knew Cranes are wonderful parents and after years and years of bird rescues I knew one should always try as hard as we can to return them to their parents, most often birds die of fright.

There are the exceptions, a beautiful yellow Grosbeak flew into our window one spring and after bringing it in and doctoring him up  we ended up feeding and caring for the  bird 6 weeks, it lived in the sun porch and made the worse mess, poop every where, I had to clean everyday , it became so tame I was afraid it would die for sure when released but one warm sunny day we took him out, and tossed him in the sky and off he flew.

His wing had healed, I had taped it with a Popsicle stick for a splint, and it actually healed!

 lol.

It worked!

Strays often became part of our family, every cat we ever had came to us magically, the word in our community was they new where there was a soft touch, I suppose they were right, lol

Sadly it never ceases to amaze me how cruel some people are to animals. 

I'm sure am glad that Mama Crane took here baby back, that would have been one big mess to clean up with that one! 

Sand Hill Cranes

 

 

  

my Dad's trapping shack.

 

More than a couple of you asked to see the cabin, this is it.

 This is a photo of my Dad's cabin, I don't have the photo of the owl on the window scanned.The windows are on the side so they aren't shown in this photo.Wild mint and sage grow on this side, holly hocks grow all along the other side, I planted them a long time ago.

I hesitate showing this photo for obvious reasons but if it does offend anyone, don't stay, you can leave now, that's OK. 

My Father was a good man, hard working, earned an honest living.

He was a funny man and was always always the first to lend a hand to anyone that needed help.

As long as I live I will picture him in his recliner chair, wool socks my Mum knit over his long johns and wool trapper pants, rubbing his bony knees with Absorbine Junior liniment red wool knit hat on his bald head watching his favorite day time show The Young and The Restless, then back outside to cut wood or stretch furs, or work in his garden.

He was a wonderful gardener,

We never ate one store bought potato, carrot  turnip, parsnip, cabbage, beets, pickle, or jam ( strawberries, raspberries, apples), in our lives until his passing, and the farm was sold.He provided all our families with vegies and fruits from the garden.

He loved his Grand children and my children have many happy memories of him crawling around the floor to play with them .

A story teller he was, to the max!

He made up silly songs and sometimes my Mum would scold him but you knew down in your heart she wasn't displeased with his songs or stories, it showed in her face when she looked at him, such love in her eyes.

He cared for my mum until her very last days and wept for days upon her passing.

He passed away not much more than a year after her, he could not live without her.

Although medicine could not find a cause of death we knew it was a broken heart that took his life.

There ashes lay side by side in an old cemetery surrounded by a beautiful hardwood forest.The Hazelnut trees are plentyful around the edges of the cemetary and you can pick them through the fence.Heavy leather gloves are a must, the thistle covered sheath of the nuts are hard to remove once stuck in your fingers!!

Wintergreen berries are all over as well, the deep green leathery leaves and the tiny red berries are plentiful in spring and when the sun melts you could always find a few that lasted thrugh the winter.A bit dried out but still very tasty.

Winter green leaves make such a good tea.

 We picked many baskets of hazelnuts while visiting my grand parents here, this cemetary is their eternal resting place as well, many of the people buried here are my relatives.Its a small rural cemetery.

The deer and bear roam freely in this place, stepping softly on mossy ground,  even an odd moose, its a quiet calm green space, it holds their ashes but their essence remains in each of the family left behind, we hold them in our heart.

We have property not far from the old farm, just a couple of miles away, so we can keep tabs on it if we want too.

To be honest  I still don't go down that road, I don't want to see it.

It looks better in my memories, I will keep it that way.  

photo from the balcony,

This photo shows the new growth of the trees, our spring has really just arrived in the last two weeks.

This ship is over 1000 feet long, one of the mighty giants of the Great Lakes,  one of the largest ships on the Lakes.

This ship rolls by our balcony as silent as the night, just a low rumble is all we hear.

Sorry for the lonnnnggg post!

But one more thing,

My heart goes out to the people in Oklahoma and Texas ,  I'm so sorry for the tragedy, such a loss.

 

putting brush to canvas,

another big one!

I think if asked what my favorite flowers are I would be hard pressed to narrow it down to just one but Tulips are on the list for certain.

Lily of the valley, and violets, oh I love violets.

I had an Aunt who wore the scent of violets and dressed in purple, she loved them as well.

I planted many many  tulips on our property, someone else is enjoying them now but I did receive the pleasure of their blooms for many spring seasons.

I had all varieties planted but I found the older tried and true brands were far hardier than the new frilly fancy types.I believe something is lost when science tries to mess with Mother Nature, I found that with roses as well, some of the varieties I planted were sadly lacking in the scent department have sacrificed scent for astounding beauty. 

I was fortunate to have some old old varieties that were heavenly scented.

The Angelic, the peonies type bloom  and the Parrot tulips with their brilliant reds and yellow were so lovely, I even planted black tulips, actually a dark burgundy purple they called black. My Mother was horrified when I told her I had planted black tulips, she thought it was a crime to create black tulips and that the people who invented them needed their head examined, her words, exactly.

When I showed her the blooms the following spring she declared they were not black at all,  she did like them though but they only bloomed beautifully one season, the next they were spindly and of poor health. 

We went for a drive on Saturday to see the tulips but it was cloudy and cool and they had their blooms all folded in to keep warm, they need the warm sun to open up and turn  their pretty faces to the sun .

Sunday began with rain and brought us a cloudy day, I love a cloudy day (ahem, ) so I started a painting of tulips, ( the painting in the photo) not finished, but getting there.

I have always wanted to achieve the skill of patience with my painting but have always failed, until now.My failing vision is forcing me to become more patient, not so anxious to complete the work.

To take my time and be more disciplined, that is a good thing.

 

I can't paint very well after too many sunny days, I just do not have the vision, but Sunday I could, so I did.

It felt so good to have the brush in my hand again, too many days had pasted , not enough painting being done here.

So off I went to another place, where tulips were dancing in the breeze and the paint flowed freely when in reality the rain was softly falling, dark clouds blanketing the sun.

Remembering blossoms from before,  putting brush to canvas.