I’m visiting my parents in the country right now. They live about four hours northeast of Toronto, on Highway 7, between Maberly and Perth, Ontario. It’s a lovely little homestead nestled into the rocky Canadian shield. The house is literally built upon a rock, which doesn’t make for good gardening soil, but makes up for it in the amount of beauty it possesses.
Being a city girl in the country, I’ve been doing my best to keep my mind occupied, and I’ve taken to perambulating through the woods that surround my parents’ property, camera in hand, in the hopes that I may capture some of the beauty around me. That and it keeps me from going batshit crazy from boredom. I won’t even tell you how far away the nearest Starbucks is. Let’s just say I haven’t found it yet.
The woods are beautiful. Dangerous, but beautiful. As the snow melts it’s beginning to reveal the mossy rocks and soft leaves that cover the ground in the warmer months. It’s still bloody cold out, though. On this particular day, I went out foolishly in only a sweater, hat and scarf and I was not warm enough. It wasn’t so much my torso that was cold, but rather my feet. Some spots were more snowy than others. At one point, I sunk nearly to my knee into a snowbank. Oops! Watch your step!
Speaking of watching your step, these little beauties are not what you think. It’s deer poo.
The woods are lousy with deer poo! My parents have begun feeding them “deer apples”, which they pick up from a grocery store just outside of Kingston. Deer apple are old and buggy fruit that are unfit for human consumption. Rather than wasting them, this store sells them by the kilo to bleeding hearts like my parents who do things like this:
Deer apples placed conveniently atop the snow on a “dinner plate” for their convenience.
Bleeding hearts, I tell you.
The yellow stuff mouldering in the middle was my offer of celery leaves to the deer. Suffice it to say, they’re not into celery.
Here are a few more shots from my foray into the woods:
This shot reminded me of an ancient Tolkein-ish hilltop. It’s actually the stump of a tree.
We don’t know much about the former owners of my parents’ home, other than that they were a bit…messy. Someone long ago dumped this entire truck onto its roof near the forest’s edge.