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ljungthursdays, for some reason, are my favourite days. i’m not clear on why. it’s not like it’s my regularly scheduled day off, good things don’t happen to me more often on thursdays than they do on any other day, and i am a sunday’s child, not thursday’s.

(it could be because on thursday evenings when i was a child, my mum and i used to watch the x files together, and then she would let me stay up late to catch the rerun of m*a*s*h. or maybe just the sound of it. thursday.)

this thursday, i took myself off on a long walk to look for Signs of Spring (other than the general lunacy of the bird community and all the leaves in potentia, which i have Already Found, and so i don’t need to look for them because i know they’re there). i’m sad to say i didn’t find any. and i really looked!

i found plenty of other things, though. like this stubborn sprig of last year’s heather, and a carefully built shelter between two big slabs of granite (nobody home), and a mysterious trail of paw prints ending abruptly far out on the ice as if the dog had suddenly learned how to fly. i found a small platform nestled high in the branches of a pine, the only way up a ladder of planks nailed to the trunk. (an excellent hideaway, with a fabulous view of…more pines). i found a very lackadaisical woodpecker. and, i found The Amazing Singing Siamese Oak, look!


(i found that yes, people here in the Big City still look at me like i’m an oddity for greeting strangers).