Didn't All Croak

Day 148: I joke that my crocuses all croaked. In fact, there are a few which Bambi and his larger friends the elk missed when they browsed the garden snack bar during a midnight raid, but they still surprise me when they pop up each spring. The cervid problem is a major issue with any type of gardening here. My raspberries stretch up past six-foot walls of chicken-wire, and the Berry Pen likewise except on the side where the gooseberries' myriad thorns form a strong defense of the perimeter. Bambi and buddies stand on their hind legs to pull plums and apples from the neighbours' trees, but the chicken-wire won't support their weight, a detail they learned by trial and error. However, any vine which dares send a stem through the wire is guaranteed to find the pruners waiting. I've taken to keeping my slingshot and a bowl of appropriately-sized rocks on a shelf by the back door, although obviously, I cannot maintain a 24-hour vigil. Getting pinged on the rump a few times teaches most (but not all) that I mean business when it comes to guardin' my garden.

Return Of The Elk

Day 158: The days of a hundred or more elk in the pasture are long past, the three herds which used to populate Elbe Hills now separated or "thinned" by hunting, but now that the first shoots of tender grass are beginning to peek through, the thirty-plus members of this single herd have returned to graze. Standing off the left edge of the photo is the glaring offense of an enormous campaign sign, the name on it sure evidence of the mind-set which would place a mega-resort on this property along with four hundred houses. a strip mall, a golf course, a convention center and a train station, all designed to line the pockets of a family which wants a monopoly on the valley's tourist trade. It is the only view of Mount Rainier from SR 706, and even when the elk are not present, the sight of the Mountain (particularly at sunset) stops visitors by the dozen who wish to capture its magnificent presence with their cameras. Nor do I take the Mountain's striking beauty for granted for all of the years I've lived here. My files are filled with different seasonal views from this same vantage point. That said, I cheated for this shot. It was so near last light that the elk were little more than bright-rumped black dots if I set the exposure for the Mountain's glowing colour or, if I let the elk be seen, the glaciers and sky became one shade of lightly tinged white, the contours invisible. Had I thought to take a tripod, I could have done better, but instead, I braced against a wobbly fencepost and took two shots at different speeds, then combined them as best I could using my photo-processing software. You get the idea, anyway. Wouldn't you rather have this view than to look out over a testament to greedy capitalism?