Rudolph? Is that you?

Saturday, as I puttered in the kitchen putting groceries away, I suddenly had the feeling I was being watched.  Glancing at the living room windows, I caught a fleeting glimpse of a face disappearing from view.  I ran over to the window to try to grab a description, and saw a furry brown coat just below the sill.

Sneaking around the side of the house, camera in hand, I startled the Peeping Tom - or Tilly - whose head rose up for a clear mug shot:

Shucks - caught me! 

The little deer was likely an autumn baby - spots gone, yet still no taller than the bottom of the window, which is about two feet above ground. No sign of mama around, and yet he or she (the antler buds generally don't develop until about five or six months, according to my resources) seemed healthy enough - thick shiny coat, clear eyes, a bit thin perhaps for the start of winter but not alarmingly so.

Were those groceries for me?

We see many deer around here, all year around - they walk through town, across town, uptown, in front of cars, through the parks, down along the beach......they are the bane of many a gardener's life, yet I never tire of watching and photographing them.  And although I see them almost daily, they don't often show up on my lawn, let alone peering in my windows.

The snow that fell in the surrounding area this week no doubt hid some of their usual grazing lands and drove them along different streets in search of food.  Even a block or two makes a difference - this morning, for example, it was snowing on my street two block inland, while my snow was gone and the rain was washing away the last of the slush. A mile away, there were many inches of snow. Crofton is its own little micro-climate, sheltered on the south by Maple Mountain, on the west by Mt. Richards, and on the east by Salt Spring Island.  Only when arctic winds blow from the north do we feel the same cold as other nearby towns.  We have, I've been told, the most moderate climate in Canada.  Perhaps that is why deer, and even bear and cougar, can be seen all year round.  I may hibernate in winter, but the bears here do not. I have seen them wandering across the road on December 26th, perhaps looking for any cookie crumbs Santa may have left behind.

But back to the deer, who was cautiously but quite fearlessly keeping an eye on me while dining on the plants, none of which are of great interest to most deer when tastier morsels are plentiful.  Sort of like the odds of me choosing lettuce when there's a table of fancy desserts nearby.

Sigh...you'd think she'd at least plant some tasty roses among this boring green stuff!

I took some more photos from about 10-15 feet away, then returned inside the house.  My little visitor soon continued down the road either seeking out a better buffet or looking to hitch a ride back to the North Pole with a man in red.

Don't forget to leave some carrots out for me on Christmas Eve! 

Magic moments to soothe the soul

Sunrise in Osborne Bay

Life last week was full of dogs, and especially of walking with dogs.   In addition to my Mitzi and Eddie, Sadie B is here for a three week stay.  Then I got a call from the hospital that a woman on the next street had been taken to emergency during the night and could I please look after her dog for a few days.  Her dog is a very large, unneutered male smooth coated collie who, while fairly well behaved, is somewhat lacking in doggy social graces – he is very pushy and won’t leave other dogs alone. So he couldn’t come here (especially as Sadie B would NOT appreciate a dog that invades her space), but a friend and I agreed to share responsibility for looking after the dog in his own house - letting him out, feeding him, taking him for walks.   

And so it was that I took the first morning shift – his mama was an early riser, so he was used to being let outside to do his business at around 6 AM.  I rose at 5:45, quickly downed a cup of coffee, pulled on sweats and jacket, and trudged around the block to let him out.  As his yard isn’t fenced, I wasn’t about to let him off leash and he wasn’t about to do his business on leash unless I took him for at least a little walk.  So down to the corner park we went.  Business done, I took him back home, fed him, and turned back towards my house, my mouth already tasting that second cup of coffee.  My friend would take the collie for a longer walk at a more humane 9 AM. 

But as I headed home, I noticed a glimmer of morning light rising behind Salt Spring Island – a hint of yellow and pink casting itself across the bay. 

And so I decided to forgo that coffee, grab Eddie’s leash and the camera, and go for a sunrise stroll.  It was so worth it. 

That evening,  after a day of walking dogs and playing fetch a zillion times with Sadie B,  I went over to let the collie out for one last bedtime pee around 10 pm.  The night was moonlit, the town quiet, the air crisp.   I decided to squeeze in one more walk for Eddie – night time walks in this small town are often my favourite.  And again nature worked its magic, for as we walked along a particularly dark side street toward  a well lit crossroad, we heard and then saw three deer – a doe, a buck and a fawn – leaping and prancing like Santa’s reindeer as they bounded along the centre of the tree-lined main avenue in town. Beautiful. 

The deer are plentiful this time of year, making their way down to the beach, across the parks, along the roads.  

A fawn hides in shrub, waiting for its mama -
a typical sight around town these days.

Two nights later, Eddie and I saw what I first thought were two dalmations in the middle of the road.  As we got closer, I realized they were two tiny spotted fawn, frozen in darkness and mesmerized by the glow of my flashlight, mama nowhere in sight.  Eddie sat quietly by my side as I watched to see what they would do.  A car speeding for the ferry appeared and I jumped into the road to slow him down – my reflective vest blazing and my light waving frantically.  Still the fawns stayed put, as he slowed to a crawl and drove around them.  When all was dark and still again,  I saw the mama – bounding across the green space by the terminal, leaping over the chain link fence, and quickly hustling the little ones into the brush on the other side of the road. 

I saw them again late last night  – mama deer coming down a lane just as Eddie and I turned a corner.  She stopped and watched us, as we stopped and watched her – keeping our distance so not to alarm her if the fawns were nearby.  Then as the moon slid from behind a cloud, I saw the babies – this time on the greenspace – and watched as mama again leapt the fence  to be with her little ones. 

There they stood, mama and her fawns together,  silhouetted against the moonlit sea.  Magic moments to soothe the soul.  What a beautiful way to end a day.

Diversionary Tactics

I’m not going to write about the renovations.  I don’t want to talk about it.  Let’s just say if Allie had opposable thumbs she’d be posting a picture of me looking like her (see post below) , with the same darn caption.  

So even though some of you are expecting a report on week two of the Great Canadian Kitchen Reno, and we're almost at the end of week three, I shall use diversionary tactics to help you (and me) forget all about it. 

A snake in the grass....or among the plants

Instead I will tell you about  the amazing array of wildlife I have seen in the past couple of weeks.   Perhaps I'm seeing more wildlife because, in our attempts to avoid the summer heat which arrived with a vengeance,  Eddie and I walk earlier  (sometimes as early as 5:30 AM) and later (sometimes as late as midnight), when it is cooler for us and quieter for them.  But starting about two weeks ago, I began seeing wildlife EVERYWHERE. 

One evening just around sunset as we wandered the back lanes, we came across a juvenile raccoon.  He popped out of the bushes right in front of us, and let us know in no uncertain terms that we weren't welcome there.  I didn't even stop to take his picture - we turned around and went the other direction.  A neighbour recently saw a very large adult raccoon in my carport, but this was the first I've seen since moving to Crofton. 

This is not a raccoon.
It is a hot little sparrow cooling off in the sprinkler.

Minutes later, standing on the corner chatting with another dog walker, we both glanced up the road in time to see an otter rapidly running across one of the main streets, far from the creek or ocean (for Croftonites reading this, he moved from the empty lot near Galletos across Joan Ave to the old Anglican church property).  Again, no photo, 

This is not an otter.
It is a little sparrow on a dead blackberry stalk. 

And the next morning, on an early sunrise walk, we saw deer.  That's not unusual in the Cowichan Valley, but the sheer number I saw that day was out of the ordinary.  Seven just on my two kilometer loop of the beach - a mom and two fawn, another doe by herself, a juvenile male, a doe and single fawn .  I did capture two of them with the camera, though none of the little fawns.  

A couple of hours later, on the short drive to Chemainus, I saw seven more, in ones, twos and threes.  And on the way to Duncan, I saw a fawn so tiny I first thought it was a whippet running through the field.  As it came closer, I saw its vivid spots and realized that, despite its wee size, it was a very agile and sturdy little fawn.  

The ospreys, eagles, herons and ravens are everywhere.  From my house I watched an osprey harrassing the eagle's nest near the ferry terminal;  on the beach I watch eagles young and old searching for lunch.  

One early morning, I saw something flipping around offshore - too large to be a seal.  A camper with binoculars identified it as as sea lion.  We often hear their barking from Shoal Island, but seldom see them closer in.  

And yesterday, as Liz and I walked the dogs along the beach at the foot of Osborne Bay Park, we saw a similar flipping and breaching and splashing - but with a marked white flash appearing on each leap.  At first I wondered if it was a small Orca as many whales have been spotted recently in the waters around the island and across to the lower mainland.  But it seemed too small for that.  Its pointy snout and flashy white suggest what we were seeing was a dolphin.  He (or she) put on quite a thrilling show for us.  Unfortunately, I had forgotten my camera.  

This is not a dolphin.
It is the flower of the hostas in my garden.

Our backlane walks have spotted many homeless and homed-but-outdoor cats, far more than usual.  One evening at dusk, I counted twenty-three within a six block radius.  This guy is one of my favourites for his tortie looks and sad, sad face.  He often comes to look in my window or nap under my car.

Sad Sack, the Alley Cat. 

And right in my own backyard, the drama of baby birds about to fly is again keeping me mesmerized.  This is hatch number three this year, from the little birdhouse that hangs under the eaves of my garden shed.  I spent several hours today with the big camera on tripod snapping photos of mom and dad sparrow feeding the offspring.  

Dad feeding babies

Mom bringing home the groceries

Now, dear, what do you say?

P L E A S E !!!!!

Here you go!

Wait!  You forgot to feed me dessert!

From the size, noise,  and activity level today, I'd guess they will be ready to leave the nest tomorrow. (I just went out to check on them and thought they might have fled this evening... but a little tap on the bottom of the house and one baby beak pokes over the rim of the hole. "Whose there?  Go away, we're sleeping! Our mama said not to open the door to strangers!"  

Who's there?

An eventful week  or two - the wildlife outdoors are so much more industrious and entertaining than the wild life going on in my kitchen. 

Sharing the Magic

What's the price of a day's visit to my little corner of the world? My friend Ellen can tell you:

Gas for return trip from a nearby community: $15.00
Treats for the dogs: $8.00
Gumboots for the muddy pig yard: $25.00
Apples for the pigs: $5.00
The opportunity to experience the magic: Priceless!

Ellen came over to dog sit for me while I went to class today, as I wasn’t comfortable leaving Oliver with his stitches and unwieldy cone for that length of time. She sewed up some drapes for me, shoveled piggy poop, played with the dogs, and she experienced what I am fortunate to experience every day: the incredible magic of life in this great place.

In fact, she got to see something I hadn’t seen – a young deer in my pasture, just 20 feet from the pasture gate.

I’ve seen deer in the neighbour’s unfenced yard and in the big fields across the street, but not right in my pasture, not just 20 feet from the gate, not right next to the piggy yard, not just a few feet away from Martin who was quite happy to share with him......and certainly not with Brazen Coyote patiently watching from just yards down the path!!

A deer, an alpaca, a family of piggies, six dogs and a coyote - all within yards of each other, in this beautiful setting of trees and grasses and mountains and creek.

Magic. Pure magic.

I'm so glad Ellen got to experience the magic. I'm so glad she had her camera handy to capture it. And I'm so glad she was there to make sure the deer didn’t end up being Brazen’s dinner. Good luck, little deer – do come again!

And Ellen, thank you. Come visit any time!