Friday, January 31, 2014

January 31

 The sun shines in a million tiny mirrors in the snow. The hoof prints are full of shadow where deer criss-crossed the hill. Three white hawks with black wing-tips circle slowly in the pristine sky. Three does with ears outlined in sharp black bound away, disappearing among the deer-colored tree trunks.

Chickadees calling—
this territory is mine
in case spring should come. 

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

December 28

A squirrel dressed for the opera hangs by her back feet from the cord, daintily eating sunflower seeds from the birdfeeder tray. When she sits up, stylish scarf twined around her neck, the long fur ruffles in the wind. She has cleaned up the broken Christmas cookies and magnanimously thrown some to the chickens on holiday from the barn for a few hours.

Carolina wren
in a bare tree—belting out
his cinnamon song.

Administrative chaos!

Just found a post from late December that never made it out of the fog of tinsel.  Up next, and out of order!

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

January 7

Too cold to walk far: the dogs’ paws freeze after a few steps. They sit in the trail, pained, puzzled. Trees make sudden loud snaps like guns.

Below freezing day:
life reduced to tidal flow
of nose hairs—in, out.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

January 1

New Year’s Day, bright dawn. Crows calling in the trees near the swamp; chickadees flitting and calling in the orchard. Waxwings drink from the ever-liquid frog pond. The seed catalogs have come. Things look good.

Corgis scent along
trails we have not mowed in years—
I stick to the path.