BIG SAND BOX

HUNKERED DOWN

The snow swirled and the wind twirled. There was a delightful but frightful evil in the weather’s mischievous behaviour and when I arrived on the deck I looked like a vagrant snowman. 

ME

And when I gazed through the screen door, whom did I see, standing on the other side taunting me? Tail wagging and impishness written all over his face? Buster. And if a dog can laugh or tease, then this bow-wow was having a ball.
Because, one of my un-torn, warm, work-gloves was dangling from his mouth and Buster Man was saying, telepathically, “Come and get it, if you can.” 
I came, I chased, and I got it, but it reminded me of why having Buster move in with us was such a good thing. He’s got lots of personality, just like the weather.

IMPISHNESS FROM HEAD TO TOE

I have, as some of you know, been whining about being exhausted after submitting a fairly large novel and I never realized, when I began the novel, what kind of emotional and personal cost it would demand. 
Not only that, but only God, Trump and a battalion of angels have any idea whether it’s going to be published, but there it is. Out there, zipping around in the ethos at the speed of light. 
So, I have been forced from my desk, so to speak, and I have had to fill the writing void with other activities. One of them is hiking with my trusty camera, Click. And because I’m out more, I see more wildlife.

BIRD FEEDER GUEST

Last week, Click and I were strolling hand in hand down our road. As we were nearing home, I let my eyes wander over the huge field that curls up from our road and ends at a thick wall of spruce and fir. My gaze slammed on the brakes when it spotted a small dark object quite a distance away. It lay close to the tiny brook which cuts through the field and it looked like a rock or a wee shrub.
So, what I did, so as to ascertain what it really was, was to point Click, which is a Pentax K70, and proud of it, at the dark spot and then clicked Click.
You see, Click is as good as having powerful binoculars. Why? Because I can look at the photo on my camera’s screen and then enlarge it. That’s what I did and discovered that it wasn’t a rock or a bush. See photos.

RUNNING

HUNTING

Some folks who like comfort and order and up-to-date this and thats might wonder how I cope with the boredom of a long winter away from all the establishments that give so many people places to go, excuses to throw money around and plenty of noise to dumb down their ear drums. These folks might also wonder, doesn’t shovelling snow get boring and tiring after a while? 
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ANOTHER BIRD FEEDER GUEST

Sometimes it does. However, I often play at the chores I do. Because, life is, to me, like a big sandbox. The five-by- five-foot one I played in as a kid, where I made up worlds. And while I was making sand-box roads and stores and what nots, I’d sometimes say to myself, in my pre-pubescent voice, “I don’t want to grow up. I want to always enjoy playing in the sand and the grass and the woods.” But I did grow up although some people might disagree.  
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BUILDING MATERIAL

So, I play in other ways. Like when I’m shovelling the lane-way. I have to shovel out enough room for three vehicles: my truck, Sue’s car and the mail-deliver’s car. Notice I said deliverer? I know what is what. Ha!

SUE PRETENDING SHE'S CURLING

What I’m doing this year is building a causeway out of snow. My snow is sand. I keep dumping the snow into this small ravine and my causeway is now about twenty feet long with more construction material to come. Buster likes to wander out on it and enjoy the view.
So, when you see me doing what looks like a cumbersome, maybe boring chore, I may actually be having a ball in my white sandbox. 
As a man thinketh, so he is. Isn’t that a Bible verse of some sort?
Thus sayeth Larry.

A SNOWY DAY

WOODS ON A SNOWY DAY