Being a Phoenix girl from way back, I’m not a fog fan. Being a Phoenix girl I love a good rainy day, pretty clouds, a gathering storm, but I need my 90% sun. I adjusted considerably to the seemingly endless days of rain, mist, and constant dampness during my days in the Pacific Northwest; I didn’t like it but I adjusted. I don’t live in the Pacific Northwest anymore, I left there for a reason 🙂 When I first moved here Northwest Montana had fog in November but it was limited, we just had to serve our time but the end was always in sight. I think those days are over. I’ve heard of years when hoarfrost built up so thick it broke branches and power lines with the weight and those days seem to be gone, too. Good riddance 😉 We used to have the occasional day of freezing fog that made pretty lace hoarfrost on the remains of summer’s tattered spider webs, grew rows of prickles up and down my deck posts, and made crystal flowers bloom on my stack of firewood. Those days are becoming more and more common. Once in a while, the gray, smothering days leave drapes of pretty spiked frost that shatter into shards of weightless glass if you blow on them, unless they fall down the back of your coat when you carelessly brush pass a branch, then they are cold, cold, cold – like this latest go round. We’ve had seven days of thick fog. No sun, not the stirring of a single branch or needle. As a meager tradeoff we have an exquisite buildup of hoarfrost. My friend, Cindy, and I decided we’d better start fighting back, beat the winters blahs and cabin fever and go for a little stroll. We took the kids down to the lake, walked gingerly around the patches of ice and enjoyed the dogs slipping and sliding and plowing through old, crusty snow. Then back to my place for coffee and cookies. I love having company and sharing my fun dishes. Coop and Sara politely tolerated Buster coming to visit. Sara didn’t appreciate Buster playing with her toys, even though she hasn’t played with them in years, but the afternoon was a success. The dogs enjoyed some rambunctious exercise and Cindy and I shared stories and laughs. And miracle of miracles, there was no sign of fog this morning, just brilliant sun. The Phoenix girl soaked it up and the Montana girl dressed accordingly for the clear frigid air. Both sides of me hope for lots more of the same!!!

I haven’t gotten much sleep this week, though not for the usual reasons. Not sure what the usual reasons are – old age? Hope not. Anyway, this week a couple of owls have stopped by my woods. I saw the dark silhouette of the first one at twilight, swooping overhead. It looked small and stout. He landed and began making fun owl noises, such stereotypical owl noises I thought maybe someone was playing a game with me, hiding in the dusky trees. I’d not heard this one before and, silly me, I went in the house and let it go on hooting without me. Checking on line, first for local owl species, making note of the small, fat ones, I came across a Cornell University site, an awesome site with maps and descriptions and recorded bird songs, screeches and other interesting noises birds make. None of the owls I listened to matched what I had heard in my tree. Darn, there aren’t that many owls! This one kept me awake as I tried to remember its almost corny hoot but couldn’t. Could I have discovered a new species! Sad, because it just looked small, fat, and black and I can’t repeat the calls it made to tell anybody!

Two nights later I lay awake listening to a different owl, one I’ve heard many times before. And it was close. This one was gracious enough to repeat its message over and over. Whowhowho who who. It would have laughed to hear my lying in bed mimicking its call to my dogs, who thought I’d lost it. I wanted to be sure to remember it so I could look it up. As I lay there listening I could hear another one answering, far off in someone else’s woods. They hooted back and forth for some time. I was pleased to confirm they were great horned owls on the Cornell site, no doubt about it. Now I can picture these impressive birds sitting in my trees, which I’m so glad I have for them to sit in. 🙂 Some people would consider them sirens of the forest, luring them into dark and evil places, but my woods are safe and protective at night, and I’m thrilled to share them with the owls.

Two nights ago the dogs and I slept with the wood stove, a black and stout and very warm thing in my living room. With predictions of 0 degrees overnight I wanted to be sure to keep it going, and it’s quite pleasant once in a while to drift off to sleep in its peachy, dancing shadows. I woke up once in the wee hours to see a familiar friend sparkling outside the window. In the freezing darkness there was Orion, my guardian of the night, as dependable as a body guard, his sword at the ready. He’s my comfort constellation, and I lay there thinking back of all the places I’ve been over the years where he’s twinkled at me on a clear, winter night.

And just so you don’t worry about me, last night I slept like a log, all the way through 😉