Totally sunny. Very good for any of us who suffer from light depravation. There are now actually 10 more minutes of light compared to the illumination nadir just a few weeks ago.

And, what's this? Micro-meteor impacts? Winter hail storm? No—no, something much more prosaic—squirrel tracks. These little rodent dynamos deign to dig. At any one time there could be anywhere from half a dozen to a baker's dozen of them under and around the bird feeder. Every time Pax and I head out the door for a walk Pax has fun giving chase.

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In 1754, a belle-lettrist named Horace Walpole retreated to a desk in his gaudy castle in Twickenham, in southwest London, and penned a letter. Walpole had been entranced by a Persian fairy tale about three princes from the Isle of Serendip who possess super powers of observation. In his letter, Walpole suggested that this old tale contained a crucial idea about human genius: “As their highnesses travelled, they were always making discoveries, by accident and sagacity, of things which they were not in quest of.” And he proposed a new word — “serendipity” — to describe this princely talent for detective work. At its birth, serendipity meant a skill rather than a random stroke of good fortune.

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Now it means a nice little lane along the shore of Mudge Bay in Kagawong.