Fox in the snow

On winter mornings in Canada, we sprinkled seeds out for the birds. Pine grosbeaks, robins, squirrels and jays all came to feast – munching and calling and hopping around in the snow. Then a fox slowly walked into view. The birds flew off, the squirrel zoomed up the tree, squeaking loudly. I sat behind the glass door, a few meters away, kept my breath steady and my movement slow as I raised the camera. The fox locked eyes with me for a moment, then started nibbling sunflower seeds.

Winter Work in Canada

It was our first holiday in Canada at Neil’s childhood home since 2019. Out there, snow controls every day. On an evening without snowfall, Neil took the opportunity to clear the roof and break off the ice that had started sliding off, posing a threat to anyone walking below.

The Snow Geese Are Here

Ever since we moved to the desert I have been trying to figure out the rhythm of life here: the weather, daylight hours, the seasons. The arrival of snow geese marks the beginning of winter. They move from front yard to front yard, chatting, sometimes sunbathing in the street, causing cars to line up waiting for the birds to awake from their slumber. Finley likes to sit in the kitchen window to watch and listen to the chatter.

Back From The Library

The first thing I do whenever I move to (or visit) a new place is to find a library and bookstore. They feel like home wherever I go – the rows of colourful spines on shelves are comforting. Readers there – librarians, clerks and fellow patrons – tend to be just as happy in silence as I am. If we do end up in conversation it feels genuine, peaceful. You exchange snippets of novels you recently loved and little things about life. Maybe you find out about an unusual place to explore or where to get the best cappuccino in the area.

So when we moved to this small desert town where everything is unfamiliar, I went to the library and got my card – making me feel more at home already.

Unpacking

Unpacking. We started eagerly and got the important stuff out but motivation is dwindling and I’m sure we’ll be living around those boxes for a while. Finley has already found her favorite things to do: chatter at the hummingbird feeder by the living room window, sleep under winter coats in the closet and zoom down the hallway, barely making the kitchen corner.