On reckless cocks and puffed up pigeons

A fool prepares for a snow day

Oh, dear reader, it has been one of those crazy days.

You know those days, I’m certain.

Today, I slept late, hit a speed bump, then spent the rest of the day running around putting out fires.

It was the kind of day where breakfast happens at noon and the morning movement is a mudslide that destroys a public toilet somewhere.

Today, I managed to make my way down to Lake Charlotte.

Heading our way, dear reader, is another massive snowstorm. The snowshoes that I store at my cottage are of little good to me there.

I went there today to retrieve them.

I wrote previously, that it would be weird visiting the lake without my Nanny there in her big yellow house.

Today though?

I’ve been moving far too quickly for any of it to sink in.

The house looked the same but there was something odd in the air. Nothing felt quite right but I can’t fully put my finger on it.

There have been some odd signs however.

The first?

Once on the Upper Lakeville Road, I encountered a male ring necked pheasant. It popped out of a snowbank and nearly ran directly under the wheels of my truck.

This suicidal cock was completely unexpected.

Next?

There were two bald eagles in the middle of the lake ripping apart something. I couldn’t tell what it was. Whatever they were dining on, they were doing so with impressive violent vigour.

Then?

On the final turn before the old homestead?

That’s when I saw something most fowl.

Avian porn.

As I rounded the corner, I encountered two pigeons slapping happy.

Well, the puffed up dude bird looked happy.

The female?

She just seemed pinned down.

I’m surprised that I didn’t see a gag ball or handcuffs.

Such is life with birds.

I guess with the old bird gone (my Nanny) all the rest of the birds in the area feel free to get their freak on.

But such is life.

Nature abhors a vacuum.

And pidgins are gong to do what they do anywhere they want.

The roads though?

They’re full of people going from place to place. Whether it’s buying storm chips or filling up Jerry cans, rural locals are out and about preparing for the coming storm.

If I were a more reasonable person, I’d be with the rest of them - getting supplies and making sure the generator will roll over.

But me?

I’m a fool.

We have food.

We have a back up battery.

There are plenty of candles in the house.

But most importantly?

The snow shoes are home and I have the supplies that I need to go exploring. I have what I need to go have fun.

So while others are dining on storm chips, I’ll be strapped into snowshoes out looking for a pigeon orgy.

So, this foolsletter ends with a bit of an invitation.

Monday, dear reader, looks like a snow day.

Tuesday, the forests will be magic.

If you’re in the greater Dartmouth Nova Scotia area and would like a guided historical hike through the back woods of Shubi. Park, drop me a message.

I have snow shoes.

Let’s go have some fun.

Remember dear reader, it may not pay to be prepared, but when a storm of fun is on its way, being ready is its own reward.