Springaling

I know Spring doesn't officially start for another few weeks, but when I looked out my bedroom window this week and saw pretty pink flowers popping on our peach (apricot?) tree, I felt like the season had already arrived.

There are other signs popping up around the yard, despite the fact that several of the trees are still bald. The fig tree is making an effort (this is a bad shot, but there's a little baby leaf coming from the branch in the foreground):

And the carrots are starting to work their way up out of the soil, even though they're not yet orange.

I wish the beets would catch up. I think last year I got only two beets from whatever we planted. And I can't quite remember when I picked them. But they were tasty with some goat cheese and honey.

Sadly, the broccoli got some sort of bugs. Aphids, maybe? So I had to lop off the stalks. I suppose I could cut the few little florets that have grown, but it seems sort of sad. Also sad that this plague supports my dad's disdain for broccoli—because it's a "bug" vegetable. I guess he's right...

On the upside, the lettuce is rockin'. I've had several salads made with backyard leaves. I do love to grocery shop right outside my back door. I can't wait until there are lots of crops (and eggs!) to be collected when we live in Santa Ynez permanently.

The same day I took all these pictures, I was passing by the sliding glass door of our house when a moving shape caught my eye. A coyote had made his way into our backyard. I scrambled to get the camera, and he crawled under the fence and into our neighbor's yard.

He's the fourth coyote I've seen around town since Christmas. One of my shaman friends (yes, I have more than one shaman friend, which I think is pretty damn cool) says coyotes represent trickster energy. They flip things around and rile things up. I watched this one go to the lawn area and roll around just like a domestic dog.

I couldn't help myself—I walked to the top tier of our garden and peered over the fence at the coyote. He looked up at me and I asked him what he was doing back there. He stared. I waved my arms up in the air to make myself look big and menacing. Then he got up and started walking in the direction of my fence.

Having recently watched a coyote climb over a 5 foot fence, I ran like the wind down the stairs and back to the safety of my dining room. I don't think my heart stopped pounding for about twenty minutes. I'm hoping he doesn't decide to try to come through our screen door and make a meal of my cats!