Yesterday I saw Owl high in a tree. We are supposed to shoot him, because he is so big he eats our cats. Last night, I dreamed of him and a deal was made.

It’s so lovely to wake up to the sun glowing through icy prisms high in the trees. Little wintry flower pods encased in glasslike bubbles… even the cockleburs were rendered smooth and harmless. Walking through a briar patch with nary a scrape. Little redbuds covered in ice became tiny scepters fit for a bird king and queen. Isn’t ice the most wonderful crystal of all?

It was just a matter of time.

Growing up, my favorite book was My Side of the Mountain. I read it and re-read it until it was in tatters. I would make a sandwich, stuff it in my backpack and tell my mom I was going to go live off the land. Then I would go into the woods behind our house and work on my lean-to. In the book, Sam found a large tree with a hollow that he made into his home. When I think of a treehouse, I think of such a place, situated in the heart of a tree, rather than something up in the branches.

It was in a recent google search for ‘tree hollow’ that I found a tree that really can be a home, and is in fact such a large tree, which such a huge hollow, that one has been made into a pub. Be still, my heart.

Despite my determination to fend for myself in the wild, I was only ever out for a couple of hours before coming back to the house. But in my mind, I lived there – foraging for wild edibles, chatting with the squirrels, and wrapping myself in tree fronds, curled under the solid embrace of a friendly oak.

It’s cold outside, but my bark is made of wool and denim and fringe. And also, I have a baby tree, and we keep each other warm.

From the top of our cloud-kissed heads, down to our roots that reach into the ground.

Today was full of birdwatching. Clouds of birds that stretch for miles, they float and flock and flap overhead. When they land in the trees, they squawk and screech by the thousands, like large, pointy crickets.

And speaking of crickets, the mall has a global goods store, where you can buy sour cream n onion dried crickets. Crickets.  They were light and crunchy, but a bit dry and scratchy like popcorn. Eating like a bird, indeed.

Then I saw it. A scarf. Paisley in blues and yellows and a splash of rainbow on the edges. Pashmina/silk. And fringe, oh yes fringe. So this is a picture of said scarf, along with a rusty bike growing around a tree. Just think… in 25 years, that bike will be 10 feet up in the air. Imagine the birdwatching from there!

Hubby’s birthday is tomorrow. This is a collage of party ideas… him in leather, me in fringe, and stones and wood all around.