Winter is needless to say, especially after this weekend, not my favourite time of year.
There are benefits, however. Like watching the Browns and the Bills slug it out in a good old-fashioned three yards and a cloud of snow dust-up.
Or enjoying the wildlife attracted by the various backyard bird feeders.
On Saturday, while waiting for predicted Armageddon/blizzard, we spent some time watching a grey squirrel foraging through our backyard stores of dry leaves (to add to the compost next spring and summer) to select just the right ones to stuff in his mouth and take home for nest repairs.
We are, obviously the home supplier of choice for squirrels.
Last year, instead of putting the leaves in a plastic bag because of a temporary shortage of those, the leaves were put out in those paper bags that you can take to the curbside for yard waste collection.
Instead of taking the leaves so kindly provided, the squirrels ripped off the paper liner, stuffed it in their mouthes and scurried off to use that to line their nests. You could see some of it flapping in the breeze in the nearby pine where they were nesting.
We were left with a lovely brown frozen leaf sculpture on our patio as a result — a pile of leaves apparently defying gravity.
If you want to feed the birds in our neighbourhood, you must first feed the squirrels. If a supply of black-oil sunflower seeds is not left on the ground, then you are likely to come home to find your feeders on the ground — the victim of a flying kamikaze squirrel squadron.
When the snow arrives in drifts as it did this weekend, the bird population swells. This weekend we had four male cardinals at the same time (a record), juncos, goldfinch (just the niger seed, please) chickadees (suet preferred), a red-breasted nuthatch, blue jays and the usual assortment of finches, sparrows, starlings and mourning doves.
But late Saturday night, when the birds were finished and we were watching a DVD of Guys and Dolls and marvelling once again at Frank Loesser's marvellous score, I noticed a shape moving around in the shadows under the overhang where the squirrel feed is scattered. Figured it was just a skunk, as they are regular visitors.
Was surprised and delighted, when the outside light was turned on, to see an opossum revealed.
Or rather the hind end of what we assumed to be an opossum by his shape and pink, ratty tail.
Eventually, he did turn around and confirm the diagnosis, ignoring the ohs and ahs as he foraged for sunflower seeds in the snow. Went out to augment the supply by tossing some fresh seed his way, but he took umbrage at the intervention and half-waddled, half-trundled off behind the shed.
In the past few years, possums have been moving north with the climate change. Have seen some while driving, but this was our first encounter of the bakyard kind.
Yet another good reason to keep the bird feeders full: You never know when Pogo might drop by for dessert.