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Our wetland meadow is almost dry and soon we'll be able to walk here.

A bever lodge in the of . Beavers decided that a patch of plastic sheet used to reinforce a nearby levee would be useful to them too.

A lab in a tiny house in the of . don't complain, although they probably should.

I bought a Milesight sensor for my LoRaWAN experiments, but the way things are going now I sigh and call it Milesigh. Not easy to sensor the shit out of our wetlands for a beginner, who does not have a google account to get the app necessary to connect it to the gateway. I'll need a soldering iron. And a crash course in soldering. And glasses.

He dreamed of herding sheep but is now ploughing a potato field in , where dreams of glory sink in the bogs. The bogs are beautiful here – after all, they're made of sunken dreams.

Pietruszka, of the terrifying pack, on the corpse of her victim (that's what I think she is thinking, I might be wrong)

Moro and Pietruszka waiting for the reward for climbing that tall tree. Masza managed to join them later and was rewarded too.

Waiting for the road to either freeze up or dry up so we can boldly go where no wolf has gone this year.

Tomorrow is the . But we should be aware of the importance and beauty of every day.

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