I was out in the back yard the other day and realized to my horror that I had left a stack of empty planters right side up. That meant that it was full of soupy, fetid water and probably about 12 squillion mosquito larvae.
I upended them & unhoused three slugs and this guy:
I dispatched the slugs and set the amphibian on some
leaves. Much healthier environment for him.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Since Dominion Power razed the shrubbery along the W&OD Trail in The People’s Republic, all the critters that used to live there have relocated.
But apparently a cobra chicken family finds the
accommodation suitable. I’ve seen them getting their morning exercise in the
past week.
©2026 Bas Bleu
The nearby golf course has been closed by snow since we got the big dump on 25 January. I mean—you can’t really plough the greenways, can you?
So a gang of Canadian marauders has pretty much taken over the 3rd Hole. They’ve been there for several days and I reckon that club management are going to have a difficult time dislodging them when the snow finally completely melts.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Normally when I post about vanity plates, it’s a collection of them. But this vehicle was so much more than a license plate—although that’s what caught my eye at first in the library parking lot.
I mean—there was a whole theme going.
Then the driver came out while I was taking this shot:
Turns out there was a whole other bunch of dogs on the
other side:
All of them have been in her life; Bodhi, Diesel and
Vincent are still with her.
She also noted that the veterinarian sticker carries a
universe of truth.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Okay, it’s possible that I may have a new neighbor.
She appeared to be gathering leaves and then went through
the fence to where my neighbor has a wooden deck about half a foot above the ground.
I’m thinking she may be building a nest?
Now I have to figure out what opossums eat—aside from Costco
tuxedo cakes.
©2026 Bas Bleu
We had a big snow storm yesterday. Prolly about 5” in The People’s Republic, as measured by the top of the table carved out by the heated bird bath.
Sleet started dropping around 0900; by 1300 it was coming
down like steady rain.
Forecast is for days of never-above (or even approaching) the
freeze point, so I reckon I’m not getting out of here in my car for a while.
The weather also restricts my cardio workout, because no
one’s responsible for clearing the sidewalks on public streets around here, so
morning walks would be more danger than benefit. I have to wait until it
unfreezes long enough to melt and dry away all the snow.
Still—I have provisions, heat and power; at time of writing
I have detected no frozen pipes, so I’m doing really quite well.
I also have a bin of safflower seed, handfuls of which I
toss out on the patio about every hour. And the birds who’ve congregated to
tank up at the Bas Bleu Snack Bar—the juncos, blue jays, sparrows, finches,
chickadees, downies, cardinals, wrens, nuthatches, titmice and even the doves—are my
gratitude today. Because I spent hours, snuggled under an afghan crocheted by
my sister’s late mother-in-law and sipping my way through a pot of tea, just
watching them dancing in the unexpected largesse of food. (And also the
unfrozen source of water.) The sparrows, especially, made me smile, because
they were all fluffed-up little balls against the cold.
After the horror that was Saturday in Minneapolis, those birds
saved my soul.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Since I have no words (well, I do; but they’re very uncouth and I’d just run them on a loop for 72 paragraphs) for yesterday’s unhinged performance at Davos—by which I mean everything every member of this unhinged administration said and did—here’s a photo of some Canada geese:
(Apologies for the quality of the shot: it was 17°F, my
glasses fogged up and I had the light behind me reflecting on the mobile
screen.)
TBH, I’m not a fan of them; they’re the rudest thing to
come out of our neighbors to the North, they act like gangsters and they poop everywhere. (I reference the line from Patton, where the general
promises that his Third Army will “go through Europe like crap through a goose.”)
But compared to Republicans up and down the line currently in office, they’re
organized, focused and would not follow anyone attempting to invade Greenland.
(Or Iceland, as the case may be.)
These guys were on the golf course I sometimes walk
through. I gave them a wide berth.
©2026 Bas Bleu
The doves in the ‘hood have twigged to the fact that most mornings the sliding door to my patio opens and a rain of safflower seeds hits the ground. So they wait for it. Every single morning.
Because it’s been my observation that they are basically
squirrels with feathers—they hoover up everything a
nd bully other birds out of
their way—I often don’t throw out seed if I see them; I just go out on my walk.
So they wait.
Eventually I do toss out some seed, because my birds count
on me. Then they eat and move on to their next station.
Anyway—this is what I woke up to yesterday morning; a carpet of doves.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Given what a complete load of shite 2025 was, let’s start out the new year with robins.
I walked into my living room Tuesday afternoon (after
finishing yesterday’s
post on notable deaths of the year) to see two robins drinking from the
birdbath. There were more of them in the trees and on the ground. (It’s been my
observation that robins, like nuns, never travel alone; in fact, if you see
one, it generally means that there’s a squadron of them nearby.)
We’ve had some cold weather in the past couple of days, so
they may have had difficulty finding unfrozen water, but my birdbath is heated.
(No, it’s not like a hot tub; it just keeps the contents from freezing.) So it
may have been their best source in the neighborhood.
There were so many drinking, I had to replenish the water
mid-afternoon.
And I was entranced watching them.
Let’s hope this is a harbinger for 2026.
©2026 Bas Bleu
There’s no getting around the fact that I am easily amused. And there’s no greater example of this than my joy in watching the birds in my backyard. Two recent incidents:
Baby finches—standing on birdseed—harassing
dad to feed them:
Cardinal really getting into a bath:
That’s my gratitude for today.
©2025 Bas Bleu
We’ve had a few days where temps only went to the 80s, and humidity wasn’t through the roof. This is quite the anomaly for the dog days of August, and I’m truly grateful for it. The past couple of mornings, my walking circuit has been downright pleasant—in the low 60s! And the occasional breeze.
Yesterday, this
fellow popped down on the sidewalk, so I paused to watch him do his
wing-stretching exercises. And I was grateful for him sharing with me.
And those are my
gratitudes* for today.
Why does
Microsoft Word not recognize “gratitudes”? Are you supposed to be grateful for
only one thing at a time? Huh.
Last week I was heading out for my morning walk when I spotted this guy:
Well, since he
was obviously pretending to be grass and thus invisible to me, I made a wide
loop around him and walked on.
There was this story last week in WaPo about a new invasive species in the Northern Virginia environs: hammerhead worms.
These are
toxin-excreting flatworms that can grow up to 20 inches or so and if your try
to kill them by hitting them with a shovel, their little segments will all spawn
new worms. Evidently the only way to extinguish life is to stun them with salt,
seal them in a plastic bag and freeze them.
I may never
leave my house again.
Even though it was 91F yesterday afternoon, I took my walk. This time, to add to my steps, I went through the corporate campus next door instead of just around the cluster.
Developers are
fixing to vomit up 92 million-dollar townhouses on the 28-acre plot, ripping
out established trees and doing who knows what to the three mini-lakes that
provided so many people respite during the pandemic, so I reckoned I should get
my enjoyment in while I could.
I was heading
past the first lake in a kind of knee-discomfort fog when I realized that I’d
disturbed a heron, who glided away before I could get a photo. I’ve seen this
guy—or his relative—before and felt blessed that I caught him this time. They
are such beauties, in the water or in flight.
Here’s one of them from a couple of years ago.
