Interloper

      Part of my job, believe it or not, is to pick lichens off black spruce trees.   At least that is part of my job today and yesterday and during this trip.  We are collecting different types of vegetation in the bogs so we can grind them up, analyze them, and correlate concentrations of their nutrients with atmospheric N and S deposition.   It can be a tedious process, but generally it is really enjoyable to be out in the bogs picking plants and such.  My nemesis out there is the little cranberry that hugs the ground and has tiny leaves.   That one takes forever to get enough material for analysis and if my fingers are cold, even longer.   I find I need to slip into that zen spot and zone it out.   Thankfully, yesterday, early in the afternoon, I was picking lichens.    

That is a species we can collect from a standing position and so when I looked around for more on a different tree, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.  A small mammal was running toward me on the animal path I was using – like it owned the joint – and really it did and should have, as I am an interloper there.  I had to look the cutie up, and it turned out to be a short-tailed weasel - Mustela erminea – all white except for a small black end to its tail.  It was adorable loping toward me, until it got within a few feet and was still full-speed.  I squealed, it veered right, and off it went doing its own thing.  So freakin’ cute.   Wish I had had my camera at the ready.

       Surprising to me was the whiteness of the little ermine.  It seemed so out of place there in the greens and browns of the bog, but winter is coming here and I swear I saw flurries yesterday afternoon.   Wet flurries are called for tomorrow and so I am glad we are heading back to Meanook to do a little water chemistry instead of tromping around in the cold wet.  Fall is coming back east, but here, winter is fast approaching and it all reminds me that the seasons are changing everywhere.   I am ready for fall and winter to arrive and for this crazy hot summer to be a memory  – though I will miss my garden which is still throwing out gobs of peppers and hums with bees.   It still has a way to go even with fall here.  Perhaps the fall will bring new opportunities and fun adventures.  I hope so.    For now, that little weasel lightened my heart and reminded me of the crisp clearness of winter and a life lived from a different perspective.