spring's relief.In the springtime, he comes down from the mountains to plant. He breaks through the winter-hardened earth with his sharp claws; he shovels dirt to and fro with his pointed snout, tilling the soil for hours in the wan vernal sunlight. His cheek pouches are full of seeds gathered from his winter stores — one by one, he spits them onto the turned ground and buries them, patting the earth down with firm thumps of his muscular tail. His field is large enough for sharing its bounty, but small enough for him to manage on his own.
His sensitive nose guides him to the still frozen river, and, after cracking a hole in the ice, he fills his cheek pouches to the brim with water; time and time again, he returns to water the newly planted seeds, only leaving for his cave in the bowels of the mountains when the sun has dipped below the horizon. His coat is losing its winter color and thickness, and he can weather the cold spring nights about as well as an early seedling can. In time, the sun will stay out longer, and the nights will be warmer, and he will be able to toil longer and harder with his thin summer fur.
summer's warmth.In the summertime, he comes down from the mountains to cultivate. He lines his field with strong-smelling herbs to keep insects and rodents away from his crops. He carves deep furrows into the earth between his plot and the river, giving his tender young plants all the water they need to grow. From dawn until dusk, he guards his field, chasing away intrigued caribou and marmots with his imposing size and impressive antlers. When he isn't on patrol for thieving vermin, he walks in between the rows of growing plants, carefully inspecting each one for evidence of crowding or insect infestation or fungal growth; any offenses are cut back with deft nips of his powerful jaws. Weeds that threaten to choke out his seedlings are pulled out and taken up the mountain — he uses them to line his bed and his future food stores.
Thanks to the hot and long-lasting summer sun, his plants quickly become tall and robust, and soon, flowers begin to bloom, heralding the fruits that will grow in the coming months. The field is full of the buzzing of thousands of bees, guaranteeing the next generation of crops is as successful as this one.
autumn's harvest.In the autumn, he comes down from the mountains to harvest. He carefully plucks ripe tomatoes from the vine and stashes them in his cheek pouches; his sharp beak slices through the thick stems of pumpkins and he hefts them into hand-woven baskets tied to his shoulders. Mushrooms have grown in the damp, fertile soil left behind — these, too, are tossed into a basket. He makes trip after trip after trip up to his mountain cave, depositing the hardy fruits just inside the mouth of the cave and taking the more sensitive ones deep inside, where he sets each one carefully in the dried weeds to keep them safe and warm.
When his fur begins to grow in thick and white, he returns to the mountains, leaving the barren stalks and shriveled vines to return their nutrients to the soil. By the time the first frost has choked the river and frozen the ground solid, all the fruits of his labor are safely stored in his cave, and he feasts upon them as the last leaves fall from the trees.
winter's famine.In the wintertime, he does not come down from the mountains, for the snow is too deep — he hides himself away in his cave with his fruits and vegetables, and he goes to sleep. His dreams are full of the year's memories, of planting and cultivating and harvesting; he can vividly recall the taste of pears and carrots even as he slumbers in his nest of thick fur and dry weeds. Outside, the wind howls; snow falls by the dozens of inches; the aurora dances in the freezing night sky. Manitoba hears and sees none of it, deep in his cave, deep in his dreams of sweet blueberries and crunchy celery.
He sleeps long and hard through the winter darkness, only awakening to munch at an apple or to pop a few strawberries into his mouth. He is sure to save the seeds of anything that he finishes, storing them in his cheek pouches to carry down into the valley with the coming of spring.
Credits:Story, profile and coding by kenny
Overlay by Higgs.
Profile art by x88b8.
Background from hdwallpaperslife.
Custom cursors from oficinadehtml.