I have a grandson who just turned two and it is a delight to stroll along with him. But this walk, today, is with myself, with my two-year-0ld. It gives a different perspective to life when we realize we don't leave behind an age but carry it with us; we are two-years-old with x number of years of experience; or twenty-years-old etc. There is wisdom in every age; why not keep that access open.
Out the front door and a look around to see what is happening just now. The sun is draped over the house with skirts of light on this northern side; for warmth in mid February we would want southern exposure against a wall.
A bit of colour catches our attention - dark red leaves just showing on the rose bush.
The southernwood in a pot on the veranda railing has survived the cold and wind and - two weeks of snow! - this winter and is showing new growth on the tips of the branches. This is touched between fingers and thumb and then nose lowers to give a good sniff but the haunting fragrance that will be there to greet people going or coming is not yet evident.
At the top of the stairs we stop and lean over and look down into the area between house and holly bush where last year we enlarged a natural nook and put a chair and foot rest to create a tiny private place out of the wind in spring and fall and out of the heat on the rare days when it gets too hot. A ground cover is gradually reforming but just hints so far. And the berries on the holly bush make us wonder if there is more cold weather to come with this fruit ready for the birds.
Part way down the steps is this feather.
We pick it up and put it on the bannister and watch it slide down.
At the base of the stairs a nail has poked up a bit and we squish it back down with a well-placed foot. The wood has shrugged off some of its paint, helped by people to'ing and fro'ing.
A step or two onto the grass and a step or two back onto the stairs - footprints. Which, as we watch, disappear into the air.
The neighbourhood cat, Bombay, who visits regularly, must be on her rounds or she would have added her paw prints to these.
A large Christmas ornament which became a viewing ball has rolled off its stand.....
...now replaced. Maybe it was pushed over by a passing raccoon. Or Bombay.
This multi-chambered container was left out in the garden last autumn and must have gotten water inside it and that water must have expanded in a frozen moment and broke the glass.
A closer look is needed.
A bit of a meander past the butterfly bush and the forsythia bush brings us to the bird bath which is happenstance for being kept filled with water and more a collection place for things brought home from streetcombing. The fish were added in the winter rains when the birdbath was full of water and floating leaves and the fish were mostly hidden. We don't suppose a passing heron was ever fooled.
A bird swoops by with a distinctive sound and we stop and look and see a pair of downy woodpecker in the King apple tree. They keep a branch between themselves and us thinking we can't see them sticking out on both sides of the thin branches. Then one flies up to the telephone pole and rat-a-tat-tat's. The other stays in the tree and we all listen.
At the entrance to the garden, through which we are now exiting, the tree brushes the top of our head. Bird song gladdens.
Which way to go now that we are on the street.....
thisway.......or........
this.....
The choice is left for later in the day and we go back into the house and out onto the deck for a sun break and a downy woodpecker comes to the feeder beside us. Maybe he is wondering how the photo turned out.