The rains came this week and washed away most of the snow, leaving ice bergs every five to ten feet across the backyard. Cricket took it as her duty to explore each little island of snow. She climbed up to the highest point of each one and seemed to be contemplating names for the new nations, given the amount of time she spent inspecting each crevice, deep in thought. This one I shall name Mathilda, for my Australian friends who have never seen snow. This other one I shall name Pluto, because it is so much smaller than all the others that it may not even be a real ice berg.
Cricket took her job very seriously, but then she was distracted when she reached the one remaining snow bank up against the retaining wall, because there, over yonder, was a pile of cat poop that had not yet been claimed. Ahoy!
The endless variations in landscape that come across Cricket’s yard keep her enthralled – from the autumn leaf piles, to the desiccated brown grass over the summer, to the variations on the theme of snow. She could write a treatise on the magical world of her backyard, if she could only figure out how to type on the computer, one key at a time. Weqjhrgweop.
For Butterfly, the rain meant that she could get closer to the bird seed that our neighbor spreads on the lawn each day. Our downstairs neighbor likes to feed the birds every day, so that they will congregate on the snow in front of her apartment and she can see some life in the midst of the cold and icy winter. When I look out the window there is always a line of birdseed on top of the snow and a huge squirrel stealing the food brazenly from the tiny birds. Butterfly would like to line up with the cardinal, and the mourning doves, and the squirrel, and at least sniff communally, but they seem to think she looks too much like Cricket and do not yet trust her intentions.
The leftover smell of little bird feet still fascinates her, though.
As the snow melts, both dogs help me find the rocks of cat poop that solidified over the winter and now dot the landscape. This is not my favorite task, but the girls enjoy it immensely.
If the groundhog was right, and winter has only a few more weeks left, then the backyard will soon transform again, into its green-shoots phase, and then its over-come-with-weeds phase, which is Cricket’s favorite. She loves to help Grandma pull up weeds, and drag them around like trophies, and then lovingly chew them down to nothing.
It is truly a wonderful world.