A murder of crows

Chatting in a bare-leaf tree

suddenly takes wing .


Who’s Crying Now?

So the power company came by yesterday to prune or remove trees that have grown up into the power lines.  I live in one of those areas in which the lines are not underground (due to shale), so they do this every five years or so.  As it happens, when I moved to this area (dry relatively high plains) from a beautifully forested area, I brought with me about twenty or thirty little one-inch tall cedar tree starts that had been growing around my former home.  They lived quietly in pots on my apartment deck until I bought a house and transplanted the little guys into the ground.  Then, when we moved to a larger house a couple of years later, I unplanted and then replanted my cedars.  I now live among a cedar forest–or what is left of it.

Over time, we realized that these cedars like it here and were growing steadily taller and wider.  So, over time, we had to remove about every other tree to allow the rest to thrive.  What remains is still a city cedar forest, sort of.  I still can count (up until yesterday) fifteen trees standing tall.  Today, I can count twelve and a half trees.  The problem is that we did not expect these trees to do so well and therefore planted a line of them under the power lines.  So every five years or so, the power company comes and asks me if there are a couple of trees I could live without, and when I say no, they knock the trees down by a significant amount of height and then come back and do it again five years later.  This time, I allowed them to take out two trees that were crowding their neighbors.  But then, the power people cut the top half off of another.

Does anyone else cry when trees are killed?

Who’s Counting?

According to my daily Farmer’s Almanac email, there are just 76 more days until Spring.  I am not sure I wanted to know that, but once having read something, it is very difficult to un-read it and remove it from the little pockets of memory that I think I may have told you about a while back.  So, now that I know that we can expect Spring in 76 days, what am I to do? (Besides place this little info tidbit into your world too.  Sorry about that.  At least I did not set it to music, so you won’t have an earworm.  You can thank me later.)

So anyway.  Things to do before the onset of Spring.

  1.  Get through winter.
  2.  Stop counting the days.
  3. Finish knitting the sweater I have been knitting for over twenty years (it is a nice winter sweater that won’t help at all in Spring).
  4. Begin counting the number of days I have to finish the stupid sweater, and to lose the weight I must lose for me to be the size I was twenty years ago so the stupid sweater will fit.
  5. Begin the search for crocus blooms and all yellow flowers.

That last makes it all worthwhile, but I still wish the old Farmer’s had not told me how long I must knit before the beauty of the crocus and forsythia takes my breath away yet again.