|
|
|
Back To Blog Entries
|
Ice and snow and away we go.
by orz at 2/23/2013 12:36:18 PM
The first of March looms near, even tho the last couple days resembled winters of yore. At least the prarie, as Kansas winds blew a blizzard and snow fell 3 inches an hour. My Wisconsin farm lucked out. Nestled on the leeward side of the Baraboo bluffs and Wis. river, only got 4 inches of pristine white fluff. Used the leaf blower to clear the upper drive and then walked to the road to get the mail. Or rather, shuffled down, because under the fresh snow is almost glare ice. Who needs cross country skies when gum boot wellies work fine.Standing on the road, checking across the fields and left and right...hmmm..what is that black blob against the poplars down there. Looks like a black bear.  So started down the road which is bare and wet to get a closer look. So nice to be able to walk like something other than a penguin on raw eggs! Finally got close enough..not bear..base of cedar tree. Oh well. Needed the excercise..too much butt sitting all winter. Waste of time to walk down for another dish offer and hospital bulletin telling me how great they are. I know..people are dieing to get in. And then it hits me...dead, absolute, deafening...silence! No wind, nor breeze. No birds. No cars or trains. And this is when the recluse I am is happy and feels truly, that no one exists on this planet but the trees and me. I shuffle back up past pines all hung with thousands of cotton balls of fresh snow. And the temp is warm enough that my prehistoric memory knows that winter is losing its death grip on the land and spring is heading in my way. I go out on the deck to fill the satellite dish nailed flat for a birdfeeder. I whistle and call because today the birds are not near and waiting. I hear a chirp finally..I'm here..I'm on my way. The first bird descends, usually chickadee or nuthatch. Then the herd, beating wings, headed across the parking area til the tree next to the feeder is full of birds, beady eyes on me.Juncos now and downies who hang vertically behind a twig..cant see me!  Right..dont notice the butt and gut overhang on each side. The shy red bellied woodpecker hollers from a tree..I am here too. And then..what? A few notes of spring song from some bird, before he realizes he is jumping the gun a bit.And I know winter is failing slowly. As I walk to the door,I look back to see the rest descend, jay and cardinals,morning doves...I am the food bringer. And I am not alone.
|
|
|
|
 |