As the wind howls tonight, I watched my last two guinea fowl go up into a cryptomeria tree. They will be chilled to the bone by morning with wind chill temperatures at 8 degrees tonight. Their usual roost is a thin white pine tree, which is far windier. In late February we lost 1 to an owl attack. Last week there was another owl hit, but a miss, which landed the 2 on the ground by our front door. Then came the fox and I woke up to pandemonium. It was still dark but lights were put on, the dog was sent out to spread his scent. With dawn I found a large pile of feathers and was certain we were down to 1. Turns out we still have 2, one has a bald place on his back. It must be dreadfully cold and drafty.
Normally I'm still at the studio, missing the evening wanderings of my last 2 guinea fowl. Their chances of survival are extremely low, they generally have a crappy life, trying to get by. You have to wonder, do they mutter to themselves in disgust? Curses on you weather! Wind! Cold!!!!
As the official move date looms and I have to be out of the art studio, I feel depressed. So silly, I could be outside in this horrible weather with much larger problems. A small space has been opened in this tiny house and new work began today. A relief as boxes have been opened and some things gathered to start fresh. It reminded me that a couple of pieces have not been posted, the last to be finished in the studio before packing.
The giraffe sold the day after I delivered him. A sign to continue, a good omen.
And a better photograph of my piece from New Orleans, "The Seafarer".