winter interest

During the winter it's easy to forget what the garden looked like in the Spring and Summer. Looking at the summer picture makes me ask the question, "And why do we live in the North?"

I do enjoy the shapes, sticks, shadows and other odd visual effects that are a product of winter conditions.  I call it "winter interest."  Some plants are in my garden just because their red bark or oddly shaped or twisted, branches contribute to the snowscapes and provide for some visual stimulation while sipping a cup of coffee at the kitchen table.  

Birds also provide some mild entertainment when the garage is too cold to comfortably tinker on mechanical projects and reading becomes tiresome.  This year we have robins wintering over in our neighborhood. Several times we've seen them in our yard by the dozens, devouring the bright red and blue berries that grow on trees and bushes in our yard.    

One robin in particular can be seen daily. You can see him in the second picture if you click on it to make it bigger.  He has gorged himself on the red berries which grew in abundance on our ornamental cherry trees this summer.  He's down to the last few berries in hard to reach tips of branches.  He can also be seen digging down through the snow to get at the berries knocked to the ground by greedy birds a few months back when food was more plentiful.  He is so industrious I am half expecting him to start constructing an igloo.  But why?  He has a little pocket of protection in the arborvitae behind the garden bench.

Still, I know he has a long cold winter ahead of him and a foot of snow now covers many of his food sources.  I'm beginning to think in terms of a heated bird bath and trips to the "Wild Birds Unlimited" to get berries for him.  No, surely I wouldn't do that, would I?  No, he needs to fly south for the winter.  That's what robins are supposed to do, so that when they come back, I can get excited to see the first robin of the spring.  

Best buddies

It's been a long time...decades... since I've been "best buddies" with anyone.  Now it's true that my wife is my best friend, but as far as male friendships, I have friends but not best buddies.  There are guys I hunt with, ride motorcycles with, who help me when I need a friend.  There are guys I could call at 2 am and I could count on.  There are guys who I would trust with my life.  Still, "best buddies" is a unique and awesome statement.

Last week my 4 year old grandson Little Zee and I went to some woods owned by a friendly farmer.  We put on the 4 wheel drive on my truck, slogged through the mud, crashed through an icy stream, looked at cows, climbed hills, drove through a field.  Little Zee was duly impressed with the power of 4 wheel drive.  As the rednecks say, "Bury me in my truck cause I ain't never seen a hole it cain't climb out of."

  

We got out of the truck, found a dozen nice rocks for my landscaping, looked at wild turkey and coyote tracks and just had a great time hiking, and being in the woods.

On the way back home we stopped at Casey's and soon were munching on crackers and cheese.  I was sipping a diet A&W Root Beer and Little Zee was sipping fruit juice out of a Buzz Lightyear juice container.

He looked at me and said, "We're best buddies aren't we PawPaw?"  Just freeze that moment.  What a wonderful treasure.  He told me that he was best buddies with his daddy too.  What a wonderful father who teaches his son about best buddies.

These moments are fleeting.  I know I won't always be his best buddy, but for now I'm flying high.