Rural Routes, Blog Version

I was chatting with a neighbour on a warm sunny day in early June.

“Look,” I said and she turned to see the thousands of elm seeds drifting slowly through the air.

“They look like little butterflies,” she said.

I agreed, but thought as well that they resembled little motes of dancing light.

“They are beautiful,“ she said.

“Like magic,” I said.

But I was not thinking of either beauty or magic a day later when I surveyed the sometimes inch-deep layer of elm seeds on my patio and in my flower bed.

We are relatively new to this annual event in the lives of those who live near elm trees. This is only our second spring in Winnipeg and there were no elm trees in our yard at the farm.

Last year, we noticed the thick seed carpet on the back lane outside our condo. This year the breezes must have been from a different direction.

INTERESTING FACT: The official name for an elm seed is samara.

INTERESTING FACT #2: Elm seeds are edible.

QUACK QUACK

One evening, the dog and I walked past a block of condominiums that in an earlier incarnation was a hotel on a major street not far from where we live.

The front of the building is landscaped with an 18-inch bed planted to small shrubs and covered in small black pebbles that our dog always finds sniffable.

Suddenly our stroll was interrupted by a flurry of wings and loud squawking.  We had disturbed a mallard duck on her nest behind one of the shrubs. We peered at the seven duck eggs in the nest, while the mother indignantly and loudly paced the parking lot beside us.

But in an area where there is plenty of green space, I wondered why a duck would build a nest thirty feet away from a major street. The dog and I were the least of her concerns, I thought.

By now the eggs should have hatched, providing they were not disturbed. We have not been back to check.

DEAD SQUIRRELS

I could smell something in my basement and I did not like the smell.

“It seems like there’s something dead in here,” I said.

K disagreed with me. He, too, could smell something, but he thought it smelled like mold. Mold isn’t very pleasant either and I decided to do some cleaning.

It was easy to detect where the smell was coming from so I began with a small cubbyhole filled with flower pots and other outdoor decor items. The shavings that lined the shelf were a clue and sure enough, after moving just two pots, I had proof that this time at least my nose was better than my husband’s.

Donning gloves and steeling myself for an unpleasant task, I removed the dead squirrel. Then I scrubbed the shelf, washed everything that had been sitting there and put it all back in place.

When we were first married, K and I rented an old farmhouse in which squirrel infestations were common. I am in no hurry to repeat the experience.

I rather like squirrels. I think they are attractive animals and I enjoy watching their antics. But they can do a lot of damage inside a building.

Now we search for the entrance this squirrel used to get inside our condo.

-30-