Daughter of Claus: Day XV
Beasts of the field, birds of the air
On the jukebox: Joy to the World by Aretha Franklin
This is the second of three posts by my family living at Stempster, in Caithness. This post has been written by my mother, Susan. You can find Mum at her blog here, or at Crowvus here.
We're planning and panicking here at Stempster House. So much Christmas stuff to do and so little time to do it in! We have extra dependants too - with very low temperatures, small birds count on us to put out titbits and water. My goodness - do they squabble to get the biggest crumbs! Deer are taking all the greenery they can reach in the little wood. They're making their way slowly towards the privet and the bay in the garden. They may polish off the privet before we have a day to secure it but they won't get the bay! Not this year! Last year they did - and a protective covering of chicken wire was hastily erected. Since then the bay has healed and flourished - still encircled by wire.
From the trail camera we have seen owls gliding between our trees. We hear them too - when we stand at the conservatory door at night, waiting for the dogs to come back inside. Sometimes they do a lap of honour as we are driving up the hill in the dark.
The cows are in their winter quarters but sheep lift their heads as we go by, with our headlamps making twinkle lights of their eyes.
Makes me think of the sheep on the hillside way back and far away from Stempster - the ones watched over by shepherds who were led away by angel voices. There's something about our wild Highland hillsides here in Scotland, which feel part of that narrative and, when the clock strikes midnight on Christmas Eve, I'd like to think that the animals frequenting Stempster - such as the foxes, otters and pine martens, can rub along very nicely with polite conversation - a sort of Christmas Eve truce.
Indoors, we have lodgers. In the last week, two mice over-stayed their welcome and were caught in humane traps and removed to a safe haven across the river. They're very pretty mice and every so often I think I should just accept them in the house but then common sense prevails. This time their crime was that they chewed through the bottom of the new bag of dog food resting in the kitchen - it's a very large bag - so that when it's lifted up and transferred to the dispensing bin there will be, unless we're very careful, a carpet of dog food on the flagstone floor. I won't be the one lifting it. Thank goodness!
Noises in the walls announce that their family and friends are still here. Sounds in the roof from time to time remind us that we're one of the pine marten's ports of call. Our relationship with the natural world around us, here at Stempster House, is based on respect - and yes, we do wish them a Happy Christmas!
I would love to hear about your own Christmas folklore and memories. What animals share in your Christmas?