Snoozing

...away this morning. This cold,

windy morning. But there are signs of spring on this one.

Spring is getting close.

Day 2 of The Great Backyard Bird Count

...and a cold one at that. It was -35 when we got up, but it was calm and the ice crystals glorious. While we had coffee, we counted the birds that showed up at the feeders, the Gray-crowned Rosy-Finch among them. It's been here since December 9. We've had plenty of Pine and Evening Grosbeaks all winter. Redpoll numbers are hovering up around 20 now, which is low compared to most years, and the majority are Hoary, which is unusual as well. All the regulars showed up, too, except the Downy.

We decided to make a point of tracking down some ptarmigan today. That means scouting the area for fresh tracks early in the day and then returning to the freshest of the tracks in late afternoon when they start coming out to feed. Here are two we found enjoying a little sun.

And here's one that was just plain hungry.

We saw four Willow Ptarmigan in total, though the tracks suggest there are many more. We could've waited longer for more to fly up into the willow, but decided to head home instead. We've had a lot of snow over the past while and the roads aren't birding friendly at all. There's no place to safely pull over.

The Great Backyard Bird Count goes until February 21. More info here.

Gatekeeper

...is a word I love. Every time I see or hear it, which for writers is often enough, I picture the guard shack at the mining company here. It's not a shack, but a respectable looking building, at least from the outside. I've never been inside. Whenever I drive by I stare at the window, hoping to see who's watching, but I only ever see a reflection of me and my vehicle. But someone is always watching. That much I know.

Needless to say, I thought of the guard shack this morning when I read this post on Bookslut, which gives "some ruthlessly pragmatic suggestions" to female writers on getting published and reviewed.

Imagine

..."cool inimitable birdie-hop style." I like that.

The best advice for this writer

...comes from this bird.

Will do.

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I've been thinking about the publishing side of things a lot lately, so Chad Pelley's post "Evolution in the Book Industry? On Peter Darbyshire and Michelle Butler Hallet's Big Moves Last Week" over at Book Madam & Associates really hit the spot. It's well worth reading.

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The snow has taken on that sunken look. February snow is not my favourite. It lacks that satisfying crunch. But the song of the pine grosbeak more than makes up for it. There's lots of singing going on.

Ptarmigan and yellow truck near sunset

...is a photo I didn't have to work too hard to get. Willow ptarmigan have been wintering in this area for ages, feeding on willow and mountain ash and so on. Along came roads and houses and vehicles, but ptarmigan keep coming for their winter food supply is here. And along come birdwatchers in their trucks, their SUVs, their cars. Some come from afar, hoping to glimpse this great northern bird in the pristine wilderness. Flocks of ptarmigan will watch them pass by, then nod back off to sleep beneath the willow in the ditches.

Sign of a poem (2)