Change In The Air

Morning Sun

Bright, hot, sunny days, and cool, clear nights tell me the summer is wearing on. There are a lot of clues that tell us it’s the time of year when the weather begins a turn toward autumn. The air smells a little different. Less of water and more of trees. In the cabana, the spider weaves her last web of the year. After a lot of practice, she sure is getting good at it. The web is a beautiful thing when the morning sun strikes it just right, and rainbows appear in the silk.

Cabana Web

It’s a bit chilly now in the mornings, and I can see my breath on the air. Dew sets heavy and cold.

Breath On The Air

The brood of pewees in the mossy nest left before the little wren nested in the new birdhouse. We were excited to see the wrens nest in the yard again. It’s been a couple years since the old wren house came down, and we’ve missed their lively chatter and captivating songs.

Wren Camp

They wasted no time raising their charges, and in just a few short weeks their task was complete, and they have already moved on. It was fun to see them, and nice to have life in the cabana after the pewees moved out.

Papa or Mama Wren, with lunch

There are other signs of the progression of the seasons. On the trail, plants are heavy with fruit. The blackberries are almost done, after a banner year. A few still adorn the canes, and even a few red raspberries my be seen. Queen Anne’s lace, black-eyed Susans and mature sunflowers are all signs we’re nearing the harvest season.

The morning sun is getting later. It rises now as my person is almost ready to leave for that place he calls “work”, where they keep him all day for five days in a row. Boy am I glad when it’s the weekend, and we can hang out, ride in the truck to The Snack Store, and go for a great hike on Sunday morning. I wish every day was Sunday.

Dawn Dog

Starlings are gathering in huge flocks now, and each evening, as we enjoy the sunset from the side porch, we watch them fly over by the thousands. A mile-long line of fluttering birds. When they fly right overhead, you can hear the whispering rush of their wings against the air.

Bird Watching

Soon the world will begin to take on a golden glow. The sun will creep southward a little at each sunrise. Deer will be on the move, preparing this year’s charges for winter. The bear and the gopher, and even the despised squirrels begin readying for the next season.

Airborne

I like summer, and the nice weather and some rain. I must admit I don’t like the hottest days that much, what with a big fur coat and being from Siberia. The flies annoy me a little, too. Not to worry. These days are harbingers, a promise of the seasons to come. When we can be out without pesky flies, and nothing tries to sneak under the lattice because it’s buried in snow. Yes, things will be back to normal soon.

Cold, Snow, Perfect!

 

Wag more, bark less.

Sasha

Alone

Lookout

I knew when I saw them pull out of the driveway in the black truck with that boat following them. They were going to camp. My person did this last year, too, leaving me alone for the weekend.  Okay, so mom was home, but life without my boy is somehow missing something.

Treats, I suppose, are one thing. No Chukchi pops or chicken jerky snacks. No canned chicken dinner. I had to suffer along with hot dogs and hamburgers and some leftover steak.

But there was something more that these days lacked. Hearing my nicknames, Snazzly, Sassy June From Saskatoon. The squealing greetings. And petting. Belly rubs and butt scratches. A long hike.

I guess I never realized how much my person means to me. How much he is part of my daily life. That’s the way of things, isn’t it? Sometimes we don’t know what we have until it’s gone.

One day there were thunderstorms, and I was scared of the noise. I hid in my corner behind the bark-a-lounger, but there was no one there to keep repeating “You’re alright.”

Another day the chipmunks and squirrels were storming the cottonwood trees, but mom doesn’t often move me to “yellow”, my lead on a long run beside the piney woods. Here I can sit at ambush. I had to watch the rodents from my red lead, by the house.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they came home!

I was so excited to see my person I almost turned inside out. I leaped, I turned circles, I whimpered. I ran back and forth as fast as I could and I jumped up on my boy the way he likes it.

I could tell he was pretty glad to see me, too. He hugged me a lot and whispered into my ear.

And there were treats. Chukchi pops and chicken jerky.

I hope he never goes away again.

 

Wags,

Sasha

Snud

Mudder

 

What do you get when snow melts? Snud! Mud made from snow. It’s really amazing how some snow turns into mud. Mostly snow is frozen water, and usually when it melts that’s what you get. Maybe it’s a special kind of snow, or maybe just a special time of year, but the snud season is upon us.

Along with snud season comes the opening of the yard around the back door, where I hang out. The fences come down and last year’s leaves get raked out of the way, and I can get my nose to the foundation. There’s always something trying to get into the cellar. I’ve been down there myself, and I can tell you it’s nice and cool and a little wet. Not snud, ’cause there’s never snow in the house. Must be plain old mud from when the water runs down behind the stone steps.

Pine squirrels are the the most pesky, and the most organized. I think it’s like a little platoon or something, because there’s never just one. If you sit at one corner waiting for the one to come out, the other one runs in through the gap behind the lattice. If you go over there to chase that one, the first one comes out from the corner. I decided to simply lay down in the middle, and when I did they both ran in at the same time! I’m not giving up, though.

It’s been crazy warm some of these days, though still snowing off and on this week, Sunday was like summer, and my person had to peel off a couple of layers on the walk.  I smelled something across Widowmaker Field. Something revealed after the last late snow melted. It required some effort to drag my person over the hill. And then, I was vindicated!

The story in pictures:

 

 

At night it’s still cold, but it won’t last long, I know. I can tell by the molt happening to my coat. The winter hairs are starting to fall out in little clumps. This usually raises mom’s ire, and she crabs that the vacuum cleaner is overwhelmed. I don’t like the vacuum cleaner anyway because it’s so loud (and I’m afraid of loud noises), so maybe they’ll get rid of it so mom won’t need to crab about it. I’d be pleased with that.

 

Clear trails!

Sasha