I live alone with my preschooler in an off-grid cabin on a remote island off the coast of British Columbia.
"Don't wish me happiness I don't expect to be happy all the time....It's gotten beyond that somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor. I will need them all." Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Friday, 20 February 2015
Sunshine, wet wood and hummingbirds
This morning I did something that rarely happens. I ran out of water before I had finished rinsing the shampoo out of my hair. But it was a sunny day and such inconveniences can be easily overlooked. For the first time this year the sun climbed high enough above the island to shine into the sitting room. As I drifted around the room dusting cobwebs that had suddenly appeared I absorbed the warmth coming through the window. This is a good thing as I am nearly out of dry firewood and what remains is split, wet wood. How wet? I put a piece standing on end behind the stove and when I turned around there was a puddle around it. Fortunately the rest of the firewood that I retrieved from under the leaking tarp was much dryer. I brought a pile of wood inside and now it is in the entry way drying out. When it is dry I will take it outside to the back deck and bring more wet wood in. I don't have time to get bored. The female Anna's hummingbird that showed up last fall successfully over wintered at our feeder. I think she is nesting somewhere as I did see a male briefly a few weeks ago and now she doesn't spend all of her day in the elderberry bush guarding the feeder. I have a deep affinity for hummingbirds. These girls do it all on their own. The male plays no role in nest building or raising the young. For such a tiny bird this is a significant undertaking and I feel joy to have had her company over the winter months and now to share the embrace of spring.
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