Jack is not a duck, nor is he Jesus, but he was walking on water today. Jack loves water. He loves the big water of the North Atlantic and the little water of ponds and puddles near home.  It seems he’s even attracted to water when it’s in its solid state. On our way around the trail this morning, Jack insisted on walking on the pond.

“Don’t worry, Mummy. The ice is strong, and I’ll pay attention to it. There are heaps of interesting smells here.”

It did look solid enough, but I thought I should test it, so I slowly made my way out to Jack, bouncing on the balls of my feet and making the occasional stomp. The ice was surprisingly robust at the edges of the pond, and it was also full of divots and craters. I have no idea what causes water to freeze in this manner, but it was interesting. It felt a bit like being on the surface of the moon. I mentioned this to Jack, and soon we were playing Star Trek Away Mission and laughing like little kids. It was a good day.

 

It was a splendid day here, so Jack and I decided to spend it going for a slow walk in the woods. Lately, Jack’s been walking beside me on the path because of all snow, but today he was off in the woods almost all the way around. He caught up with me at the last bench before the car park, and he seemed a bit out of sorts, so I asked him why the sad face on such a lovely day.

“I can’t tell you. Well, I shouldn’t tell you” he replied.

“Shouldn’t tell me what, Bubbs”

“It’s about the little folk. They don’t like for people to know their business.”

“I see,” I said. “But, it’s ok for dogs to know their business?”

“Silly Mummy, of course, dogs know their business. We can hear and smell everything they do. They’d prefer most dogs didn’t know about them, but they trust some of us.”

I was getting very curious, but I know that if you ask Jack too many questions, he wanders away, so I let a few quiet moments pass when Jack spoke up again.

“Mummy, what would you do if your home wasn’t safe anymore?”

“Well, I’d fix it if I could, and if I couldn’t fix it, I guess I’d move to a new place.” I let a beat pass, “Does one of the little people have a problem where they live?”

“Oh, Mummy, they all do. It’s terrible!” Jack had a catch in his voice, and I saw worry in his eyes.

“Can you tell me what the problem is, Bubbs?”

“It’s the ground, Mummy. It isn’t staying frozen long enough for them to go to sleep.”

I had to think about that for a bit, then I asked, ” Why can’t they go to sleep if the ground isn’t frozen?”

“They can, but this year the snow keeps melting, and it’s been raining, and everyone is worried that their tunnels will collapse. Usually, the meltwater comes in the spring when the flowers and trees can help drink it, but the trees don’t drink much in the winter, and so the ground gets soggy, and their tunnels get mouldy, and their food spoils faster and then sometimes the tunnels cave in.” Jack stopped and looked around before adding, “that’s why they can’t do their winter sleep.”

“That’s awful, Jack. What are they going to do?” I asked, but I could see him wander off the path and knew that to be a sure sign, he didn’t want to talk anymore.

“They have a few ideas, but not everyone agrees.” Jack said, before adding “Can we be quiet now, Mummy.”

“Sure Bubbs,” I said, but I was brimming over with questions. Who are these little folk, and how many of them are there? How big is their tunnel system, and where do they hide the entrances? Do they live there all year, or only in the winter? Do they all bunk together like at camp or do they have proper rooms with furniture and books. What sort of food do they eat, and what do they store down there? How long is a ‘winter sleep,’ and is that like hibernating? What ideas do they have to deal with their soggy tunnels and is there anything we could do to help?

I could see that Jack wasn’t going to say anything more about it, though, so I let the questions lay silent for today. Hopefully, he’ll tell me more, and if he does, I’ll be sure to pass it on to you.

It’s winter in January again. That warm spring nonsense has gone back to its hiding place under the snow, and I hope it stays there for a while. Over the weekend, we had snow, rain, ice, and finally, more snow that decided to stay. Jack loves this weather, and we took a walk in the woods to celebrate. The air was cold (-12°c ), but the day was sunny, the sky was a soft turquoise blue, and the path had been nicely trodden by many sets of feet that came before us. There were also signs of life in the forest. We saw lots of squirrels out and about doing squirrel things, and since Jack can’t run in deep snow any more, he glowered at them all.  There was also a small, but vocal murder of crows to keep us company and they cawed and howled at us from the trees as we made our way around. Jack barked once or twice at them in reply, and I’m not sure what he said, but it wasn’t very polite.  It was a simply beautiful winter’s day, and walking among expanses of virgin snow instead of the slush and ice of city sidewalks and streets made it good for Jack’s feet and great for my mood.