This bird
now featherless
its coat dropped carelessly
in a pile, under a leafless tree
on a patch of washed-out grey leaves
one could hope he forgot where he left them
if not, their velvety softness will be reused in a nest
for warmth, and comfort with instructions on hunting
This bird…
posted for:
http://jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com/2010/03/17/thursday-poets-rally-week-10-march-18-march-24-2010/
This happened two nights ago…
It was only eight o’clock at night. I needed to bring Uriah inside. He was still outside in his kennel.
A couple hours earlier I tried to coax Uriah in the house. But he wanted to sit outside. With the sun setting, coyotes would be coming closer to the house, so I locked him inside his kennel.
It was time to bring him inside. I flicked on the outside light and without waiting for the light to come on I stepped out the garage door. I was met by a wall of darkness. I looked down at my hands and could barely see them. A heavy fog had settled in close to the ground, which caused a curtain of blackness to fall over everything. Silence assaulted my senses. For a second I contemplated going back into he house until the lights came on. I shook off the uneasy feeling and clutched my ski pole.
I walked forward, then turned to the right and headed around the back of the house towards the dog kennel. I hesitated again! The silence was over powering! I called to Uriah. He didn’t answer. I looked up at the light; it was taking its time turning on. Maybe the dampness or the cold air was the reason. Or maybe I was being paranoid! It takes time for that light to heat up. I couldn’t hear anything moving around out there in the dark. But something felt wrong.
I laughed off a trickle of fear and called to Uriah. He didn’t make a sound. Something else did in that heavy darkness! An odd, growl and movement, then the sound of a branch breaking came from the direction of the apple trees.
I stopped and peered into the foggy blackness. Silence! A deep heavy silence!
I told myself, if there was something out there I should be able to hear it again and there wasn’t a sound anywhere around me.
“Hey Uriah! I really think I should have waited for the light to come on.” He didn’t answer me. I knew he was alright, I was talking to him through the window earlier; as it got colder I closed the window and watched him as he stared out into the yard.
I shuffled to the kennel door, opened it. Uriah stood there watching me but didn’t make a move to leave.
I stood at the open door and waved at him to leave. “Come on! You have to come inside!”
Uriah turned away from me and stared out into the yard towards the apple trees. He was pacing in place.
I turned and looked out over the wall of blackness. A chill ran up my spine and I fought the urge to step into the kennel with Uriah and close the door. Not a smart move! I would be locked outside, not inside the house.
Then I just made a bad mistake! I allowed fear to creep around me…
Animals can smell fear. Uriah came up to me and leaned against my leg. Great! He was nervous too…
“Ok, here’s the plan. We walk out of here. You pee! We get into the house fast! Just pretend we don’t think anyone is watching us.”
Brave Uriah whimpered and looked out towards the apple trees, again..
I muttered. “That’s not helping!”
I coaxed Uriah out of the kennel. He stayed as close to me as he could get -behind me and under my coat. I didn’t like this situation…
Then I got mad…
“Alright! Whoever is out there, get the hell out of my yard!” Uriah perked up immediately and walked in front of me and wagged his tail.
Then I heard a clinking sound, similar to tags on a dog collar. I thought I was imagining that sound. But Uriah’s head turned to the sound as fast as I had. It came from the apple trees…
I yelled out into the darkness and stepped forward. “Uriah are you going to pee now?” Then I turned towards the driveway and started to walk.
Uriah followed. I stopped, he urinated and we slowly waked back to the garage.
I kept thinking. “I am not afraid!” Still, I could feel that tickle of fear creep up again. Fear is one scent I really didn’t want to send that out into the yard. Once an animal catches a whiff of fear, he will attack. I was so glad there wasn’t a wind and we were nearly in the house. And I wasn’t sure what type of animal was out there watching..
Uriah pushed past me and was inside before I had the door fully open.
The rain poured down this morning, an attempt by Mother Nature to clean off the winters sludge from the roads, buildings and ground. Most of the snow surrounding the house melted off this morning. Before this winter will be official over it will take a few heavy rains, then some sunny days to bake everything clean.
I walked over to the Bog Willows and peered inside their tangled branches, I saw where the snow was hiding. Every bit of ground in the shadows was snow covered. White and icy, refusing to let go of winters bite.
Uriah was very disappointed when I refused to walk in the cold water, which covered the low end of the path. He carefully inched along the un-melted ice and drank from the water.
The skies above us were heavy with moisture. The clouds were a deep soft grey, they moved quickly overhead. I looked up at the motionless tree tops. All the wind was high up in the clouds, the winds pushed them into rolling mountains that swiftly changed shape every second.
With our walking path blocked I turned my attention to the vegetable garden. This past October I had covered it with a tarp and wooden fencing, and an occasional pizza box. I had stuffed a large plastic garbage bag full of autumn leaves and set it in the garden. My intention was to dig those leaves into the newly turned soil and pile them around tomato plants. Right now that bag sat, bloated, in the middle of the garden waiting for me, and spring.
I walked around the covered area. Stopped and called for Uriah.
Uriah came over and sat next to me and stared at the garbage bag like I had commanded him to, and then looked up at me waiting for a biscuit.
I pointed to one of the tarps. “You think we can uncover one part and set up a cold frame?”
Uriah actually looked as though he were thinking. He stood up and stepped into a section that was not covered and slowly tried to dig in the dirt. Then he looked up at me with mud stuck to his paws.
“Okay! I get it too mushy to play in, maybe next week!”
Uriah looked at me, sighed, then walked over to a hole and stuck his nose in it, and then he stood back and sneezed.
“Right! That last rat has to go!” I backed away. I am not crazy about rodents! “You get right on that!” I raised my eyebrows and kept inching backwards.
Uriah isn’t fond of rats! This rat has taken his biscuits, food and chew toys over the past few months. Whenever I mention that fact, I am told rats bite, hard! Uriah gave me a look and went into the kennel and slipped into his dog igloo and left me standing there, alone.
I looked up into the sky, I could hear the high pitch scream of the Red Tail Hawk.
“Hey, Uriah maybe the hawk will get that last rat for us!”
I turned my attention to the birds. I could hear Blue Jays screaming. The Black birds were congregating in the tree tops and a Robin chattered angrily at me from a Mulberry tree. Cardinals flitted in and out the branches of the leafless Crab Apple trees. Somewhere on top of the barn, Doves cooed in a rolling Scottish accent:-)
I pulled my camera out, fully intent on capturing a picture of that Robin. I haven’t seen one since December. I started snapping pictures of the clouds and the lack of snow.
Uriah decided he was bored and followed me to find that Robin. Except every time I pointed the camera he decided to bark at the birds. I gave him a biscuit, or three. He was trying to protect me from the, big mean Robins. How dare they chatter at me…
Yesterday, the temperatures rose high enough that the snow became heavy and started to thaw, just enough to become slippery and wet.
Twenty-four hours later, today. The snow was solid and slick with chucks of sharp ice.
The snow was so hard Uriah’s paws slid as he walked across the top without breaking through. Instead he slipped and fell. He was not amused! I tromped over to him, allowing my weight to break the top layer of snow. I moved slowly to where Uriah sat. He looked irritated at the smooth, white snow stretching out in front of him.
Stabbing my ski poles into the snow on either side of Uriah, I tried to slide him off the top of the snow bank, onto the area I packed down. When he was back on his feet/paws, Uriah glanced back at the tree he had been heading for, for a second he hesitated, sighed and made an odd grumbling, growling sound.
If Uriah had fingers I bet he would have flipped the bird at that snow bank.
Uriah made a half hearted attempt to walk behind me, then he decided to walk next to me, on that snow covered frozen path.
As we walked the sky cleared and a deep, purplish blue sat on the horizon to the east. I stopped and looked straight up. The sky was slightly hazy grey. Some low clouds moved above me, giving me a closed in feeling.
The air held an odor of pond water, fishy and green smelling. As I headed along the path a sweet, bitter smell of smoke curled around me until I reached the far back. At that point, the path turns to the north and rounds out and heads back west, towards the house. Just then, the wind picked up blowing in from the north-east, and pushed away the burning campfire smell. The air changed, I could smell cows, manure and hay.
As far as I could see, the snow covered the fields. A pattern of colors and lines weaved in and out. I looked towards the farmer’s barn; I could see cows walking slowly and dark earth pushing up between snow drifts. Grey ice covered the lower areas, frosted and untouched by the slightly warmer air.
Uriah and I reached some heavy bushes; we walked underneath them instead of around. A tiny, black headed bird, complained at our intrusion. Uriah nudged my pocket I stopped and broke a milk bone in half and handed it to him. He was happily crunching away when a stick snapped next to us, we both turned to the right.
Not more than a foot away from us was that Pheasant! His neck was stretched up high. Light grey with a dark blackish blue ring around his neck. He looked startled and scared, and he slowly backed away from us, then turned and flew into the taller trees. He missed the first branch and then started running towards the Bog Willows. He ran into a tree trunk flapping and scooting around until he disappeared into the trees.
Picture a very stupid cartoon bird!
All this took no more than a couple of minutes, both Uriah and I watched him with our mouths open, Uriah forgot his biscuit. I forgot my camera…
Insert, heavy sigh, rolling eyes, slap on forehead and Homer Simpson’s “D’oh!”
Uriah looked at me. I shrugged and he made a half hearted move to chase the bird. He took a couple of steps, then changed his mind and continued eating his biscuit.
Winter around here won’t end until April, if we are lucky.
Beneath the Willow
I lay inaccessible and supine beneath my Willow
Her naked branches pull me upward
in a flurry of color, waves of light
She drops her clothing to cover her roots
Her muse once led my soul
Now, She whips at my stone
Dancing in the timbre of sunshine
Fire amidst rustling autumn foliage
I drift deep into the cold ground
Shimmering fall leaves bury me
fighting the march of winter
Prelude to the intake of biting air
Willow will sleep quietly
raining bitterness and delight
Blending…
of dried leaves, verdure and decay
Tang of freshly turned mud and dusty soil
She taunts me, coating my name with leaves
Burning embers, flashes of destruction
Move closer, She will burn
Does She Understand this…
Having no choice I am inside the flame of colors
Staring upward spinning blue, against white
She crashes to earth in a storm of orange…
Arcing, vivid orange, photosphere, blindingly
A searing prism
A golden illumination
An autumnal equinox
Her aroma full of passionate ecstasy
Willow, whispers of the changing winds
Listen you will hear her laughter at my entrapment
Roots dig deep, tearing into my sides as She reigns from above
I am… This volatile collision
A menagerie swept together of bitter green and biting hot
All but a memory of light and life
Shifting beneath a path of sweet promise
Willow worries not for me
She will feed off my flesh
Ripping into my marrow
Until I disintegrate into the cold ground, forever supine…
I posted this for Jingles Thrusday Poetry- I wrote it for the writers site I belong to, it was for their picture contest- October 2008. I added the picture that was used for that contest.
I lost all feeling in my fingers by the time I reached the beginning of the back path.
I was hoping the water was still running strong. Then this walk would be cut short and I could slip back into the warm house.
The water looked solid… Darn!
I used my ski pole and poked at the ice at my feet. Today the air was dry, Mother Nature pulled the moisture out of the ground, leaving some of the ice hollow underneath.
I watched as Uriah stepped gingerly on the ice. He turned and looked at me. I could hear his thoughts. “See! I didn’t break through. It’s strong enough! Come on!”
I shrugged and started my slow shuffle over the slick ice.
Deciding I was too slow, Uriah came back to see what was taking me so long.
I tried waving at him to stop.
He didn’t listen.
I tried to baby talk him away…“No, no walk up ahead of me. Uriah don’t stand next to me!”
He just stopped and stared. First at my forehead, then at my pockets, he was hoping for a biscuit. He was looking at me, when the ice popped, then cracked loudly under our feet. All in a matter of seconds, Uriah’s eyes opened wide and looked like they would pop out of his head. Then he looked down at his paws, and then back up at me, just as the ice gave way under him.
Luckily, for both of us the water that settled underneath was only about two inches deep. But two inches of freezing water was too much me. Uriah, at the first popping sound started moving fast! He slipped on ahead aiming for the area with the dried grass. He knew if he stood on the grass, he wouldn’t get his feet wet.
I wasn’t so lucky. The ice gave out under me, and only the bottom of my shoes got wet. Relieved, I laughed! And started a slow shuffled towards Uriah.
“Nothing to worry about it’s not deep!” Famous last words…
Ten steps in and the ice broke again. This time, the water poured into my shoes.
I hurried to reach higher ground, the dried grass, not taking in to consideration that Uriah weighed a lot less than I did.
Heavy Sigh!
Uriah glared and whined! He lifted one paw at a time up, as my added weight sucked us both down into the icy, muddy water. The water freely poured over the top of the grass and sticks and my shoes.
Note* It wasn’t deep. If I had stood still it would have reached my ankles. *
Uriah turned away from me and raced up the path to the East. Home was to the west.
I checked on my camera. It was safely in its case hanging around my neck. My goal in coming out here today, was to take some pictures. With that in mind, I decided to continue on my frozen walk, and I headed up the path to the east.
I was hoping to find that Pheasant hiding in the trees. My imagination was working over time as I walked. Wet feet and frozen shoes, took my mind off my frozen fingers. At that point I pictured that Pheasant sipping a hot chocolate, with his feet up on an ottoman next to a roaring fire.
Yeap! I was hallucinating! And I would surly freeze to death under a tree.
Uriah had disappeared into the trees.
I could hear the ice cracking, in the low lying areas as I moved up the path and straight east. I tried to avoid the gentle, dangerously frozen wind, which was trying to knock my nose off.
The sun was shining brightly and the snow glittered white. The thaw we had, a few days ago, had taken away a large portion of the snow, the rest was frozen solid. I had a hard time punching my ski poles in the snow, in a laughable attempt to stay on my feet.
I could hear the sound of a little bird, but I couldn’t see him. Uriah gave up walking alone and came running up asking for a biscuit.
My fingers felt like they were no longer attached to the rest of my hand, as I dropped a biscuit out of my pocket.
Weather can be very deceptive and detached. That bright sunshine and blue sky would shine down on me as I froze, sitting under a tree.
I wanted a picture!
So I stopped and removed my gloves, and told Uriah to smile. He hid his face in the snow…
I only took a few pictures, I had to stop, because I couldn’t feel the on and off button. I slipped the camera in its case and told Uriah to run home. He took off into the trees instead.
At first I was aggravated then I realized it was probably warmer in those trees than out in the open.
I wasn’t going to trust the ice. So I plodded forward, over the low path and ice. I stepped once more into the water. By now my shoes were ice cubes! Literally, chunks of ice!
I hurried across the open yard! Uriah suddenly appeared right behind me; he didn’t complain as I opened the door to the house and ordered him inside. In my stylish ice shoes I clunked in behind him thinking, I need to toss out that Pheasant and drink his hot chocolate…
First day of a new year!
I stared out the window at the icicles that clung to the screen, trailed down the deck’s railings and lengthened underneath the grill. The winds had smoothed out the snow. And I could see little birds jumping in-between the branches of the Blue Spruce on the south side of the deck.
Uriah was outside. I watched as he slowly trudged through the snow and picked a spot, out in the open in the sunshine, to sit down. He looked out over the yard, and then looked over his shoulder at me. He was happy to be outside. The sky above him was a beautiful deep blue with puffy white clouds. The ice shimmered like clear diamonds, enhanced from the blinding white sunlight, as it reflected off the snow.
I finished my coffee and headed for my coat and boots.
Once outside I pulled my scarf up around my face. There wasn’t a wind, but frostbite was a reality in these low temperatures. Uriah danced around my legs until I handed him his morning biscuit. I waited as he crunched it to pieces. Then he nosed around in the snow until he found every last morsel.
Being Uriah he tried for two biscuits. I shook my head at him. He didn’t seem disappointed; instead he turned and waded through the snow towards the back path.
The snow was powdery and painfully white.
Uriah stopped, and looked back at me; he was hesitant to step near the path. He must have remembered the cold water running under the ice.
I moved cautiously forward and pushed my ski pole down into the snow. It hit frozen ground. Confident I wouldn’t end up with wet feet, I moved on.
Ice crystals were growing upwards along every piece of dried grass and twig sticking up from the snow.
As I got closer, I could see unfrozen dark water. Little puffs of snow perched on top stray blades of grass, which sat above and over the water. The sight was spectacular! The area was covered with multiple bouquets of white snow flowers. The highest stood only two inches tall.
Uriah took a couple of tentative steps forward, and found his own way around the freezing water. Instead of walking straight ahead, he had turned and walked into the trees and scramble over branches.
By walking on piles of dried grass, I was able to make my way to the southern fence line. From there I picked my way around the water, hoping to avoid getting my shoes wet.
I noticed that I was not the only one who walked this way. I spotted the tracks of a coyote, rabbit, and squirrel.
I stopped and laughed! Pheasant tracks! They were heading to the east. The same direction I was going! As the ground slopped upward, I followed them up and away from the water. As the path moved slightly south, I found the tracks under the trees.
That bird had followed the fence line. He walked halfway down the path, and then his tracks turned to the south. Where he moved into the open field and headed towards the denser tree line.
I kept walking. I waded through the powdery snow. I passed up some smaller tracks. They looked like the rat tracks that were near Uriah’s kennel.
There were some prints I couldn’t identity. The snow was soft and the footprints had caved in. This animal walked with his feet apart. He left a trail, similar to train tracks.
Once I reached the end of the path I rounded the back and passed by the farmer’s air field. Headed north and took a left turn and then faced west. There the Bog Willows stayed to my right. This took me in the direction that headed back home.
I walked under a bush, and noticed smaller tracks, possibly rat tracks. Or, maybe not! This guy had circled around and around underneath the bushes. More than likely it was gathering its breakfast. A few feet on the other side of the bush I came across a coyote’s tracks. He was circling the bush from the outside. I assumed, he too, was gathering his breakfast.
Uriah appeared from the tree line and looked at me. I waved at him. He turned and went back to his games.
At that point I noticed some small, nearly dotty tracks on top of the snow. I stepped forward and stepped into a snowdrift. This animal had to be very tiny, or he would have sunk in the snow. I stood still and picked out its trail. Then I stepped back where I could follow its path without standing in deep snow.
This animal had circled every piece of grass and wildflower it passed, and it left behind a tiny dusty trail underneath each plant. Its tracks moved perpendicular along the path I was on. I thought this was great! I was heading home. I could follow it without wasting time. I would even walk a little slower and keep an eye on its tracks.
Then the little tracks disappeared under a Bog Willow…
That was when I made a mistake!
I walked forward to see where the animal tracks had gone to. When I did that, I brushed against the top of a sagging Bog Willow. It was capped with heavy snow, as was everything else in sight.
As the snow showered down on my head I heard a squeak! I saw a mouse stick his head out of its nest of milkweed seeds. That nest was built in the center of the tangled branches, on the top of that Bog Willow, which was about five feet off the ground.
I should stop here and tell you. I don’t like mice! I am the idiot that will dance on the couch, bed or table when one of the little buggers appears. On with the story…
Now, all this was happening at face level!
Uriah caught a whiff of fear and came running! He danced around my feet when he saw the mouse!
The mouse saw the dog! Then looked at me… Its mini brain worked overtime during those seconds when it tried to figure out, who it feared the least… That was the one it would leap at!
The Bog Willow branch snapped upward!
I squealed!
Uriah barked!
And the mouse squeaked and landed on my arm!
I was in a Disney movie….!
My fear was that mouse would crawl down my coat!
I stopped hopping and held my hand out to Uriah to sit. I kept thinking, “Stay calm and relaxed.”
Riight!
I reached out and put my hand on the Bog Willow. I made a very shaky bridge, which I hoped that the mouse would use.
He did!
Once he was off my arm, I was out of there!
Uriah continued to hop up and down. Run in circles and sniff at the snow under the Bog Willow.
I headed over the flooded path, and broke though the ice. A wet left foot wasn’t going to slow me down!
Uriah, finally decided to follow, but refused to come inside the house. I left him outside to guard against an invasion of mice…
*
*
*
*
This image comes from the Project Gutenberg archives. This is an image that has come from a book or document for which the American copyright has expired and this image is in the public domain in the United States and possibly other countries.
File:Hickety Dickety Dock 1 – WW Denslow – Project Gutenberg etext 18546.jpg
The world is covered in ice!
I stepped outside to the sound of a thick rattling. Not a sweet musical pitch, more a deep thudding sound.
I tried to take a step forward and found myself without footing. I held tightly to my walking stick /ski poles they stopped me from taking a tumble. Uriah was walking gingerly; he couldn’t get a foothold on the ice. I decided, staying next to the door would be the safest place.
It was ten o’clock in the morning. The temperature was over the freezing point. Yet everywhere I looked my world was covered in a thick shiny ice…
This weather had started early yesterday.
By nine last night, when I took Uriah out for his last walk, I found the driveway coated with a ruff, white edged ice. At that time I was able to get a foothold, and take Uriah for a short walk.
As I walked out of the garage, I turned to the right, and chambered up the slight incline using my ski poles and Uriah, as a support.
The snow looked like butter crème frosting! While the night before it resembled powdered sugar. I crunched though the top ice layer, and walked towards the vegetable garden and Uriah’s kennel.
Before I came outdoors, I had turned on the outside light above the garage door. That lit up the driveway and set a glow around the house.
Once in the yard, I turned and faced the house. On the northeast side of the roof I watched as water, illuminated as silver sheen, ran down the roof and over flowed from the frozen gutters. From there, it traveled down the light pole. The water never made it to the ground. It froze solid in mid-run, and coated the pole, and the light in clear ice.
The deck was an ice rink, thick as twenty coats of varnish. The frozen clothes line was still stretched above the lower deck and connected to the upper side rails. I had forgotten to take in the aluminum pole I used to raise up those lines. That pole was more than covered in ice. It looked like it was dipped over and over like a giant clear candle, its center a soft fuzzy grey.
The grill that sat on a square pattern of pavers was sealed and enclosed in ice.
I was outside only ten minutes. During that time it snowed big flat flakes. Then changed to an ice storm of painful pellets, and then changed into cold rain, only to start all over again, with the snow.
This morning, I stood outside the garage door and worried about the trees! Then the electrical lines! If the winds picked up, before the temperatures rose enough to melt the ice, I will have broken tree limbs and no heat.
Suddenly, the grey skies opened and it rained. Hard! Only for a minute and then stopped.
Uriah, oblivious! Happily drank up some of the rainwater. Carefully picking his way around the ice, he walked over to me. Without sitting on his hindquarters, he waited for me to open the door. He had enough of this wet, icy world!
I laughed as he waddled inside. He will forget and ask to be let out. That should happen in about an hour…
Early Tuesday, afternoon I headed outside to get the mail. I stopped, about forty feet from the road. When I spotted some large, bird tracks that crossed the driveway, south to north.
I followed the tracks to the south, the way they came into my yard, and looked over the fence into my neighbor’s yard. I couldn’t see where the tracks started from. But, I could see a large number of bird and small animal prints around the trees. I noticed only the large bird had separated from the rest, and walked a four toed pattern under the wooden fence.
I retraced my steps back to the driveway and hesitated. Should I just collect the mail and head back to the house? No! This was bugging me, that bird could need help. I decided to follow the bird’s claw prints across the front yard.
Uriah came over and sniffed at the snow, then followed me.
I found a couple of feathers. They were stuck in the snow a few feet north of the driveway. Reddish mottled brown with a soft gray tuff closer to the tip, about two to three inches long, I slipped them into my coat pocket and kept following the tracks in the snow. They guided me across the front of yard. That bird had walked a zigzagging pattern, headed north, and kept to the harder packed snow.
I reached the property line on the north end. Slipped between the evergreens and stood on a sizable chunk of plowed up dirt, and stared across the field. Uriah stood next to me and waited.
I took off my right glove and readjusted my hat. The temperature was in the lower 30’s, without a wind. I wiggled toes, to check how frozen my feet were, they weren’t cold. And my fingers were still warm. I wasn’t cold at all! This gave me a reason enough to move on with my quest.
I was thinking the bird might be a hawk and he was hurt. Why else would a bird take a walk? He could have a broken wing! Or he may have been clipped by a car driving by too fast! I shook my head silently. No! If the bird had been hurt I would have seen a blood trail.
It might be a pheasant! I usually see a few of them running in the snow, or startling me when Uriah flushes them from the tall grass. Again, I shook my head; the tracks didn’t have lines formed from the birds trailing tail feathers. And this bird had four toes. I thought a Pheasant’s tracks usually showed only the front three toes.
I replaced my glove, and made sure my footing was steady. “Well, Uriah, should we head back to the house? Or…Should we see what type of bird left those tracks?”
I left it up to Uriah to decide what we did next.
I use my old ski poles as my walking sticks, I grabbed them both in a way that said I was finished standing around. Then I looked towards my dog.
Uriah sniffed the ground, glanced up at me and started to walk on ahead. Now he was following the tracks, and I followed him.
I carefully stepped out on a wash of tiny black icebergs, small points of back earth, which stood out above the snow.
Tracks of coyotes, a fox, and raccoons crossed my trail heading off to the east and west. Tire treads cut through the snow from an off road vehicle, probably the neighbor who I saw on Sunday. His tracks headed across the road into the farm field. The animal’s prints looked fresh, possible early this morning. I thought, maybe they were chasing the bird. But no, the tracks crossed each other. I doubt they actually saw one another.
Curiosity had me moving on. I was beginning to think I was following a drunken chicken
The bird had walked towards a couple of very old, gnarly Oak trees. Scratched in the snow then turned towards the road, and walked in the ditch, until he headed out on the road.
I called Uriah back, and made him sit. I waited for two cars and a truck to pass by. Once it was clear, I allowed Uriah up and out of the ditch, so he could stand next to me on the blacktop. I could see that something had been hit by a car recently. It laid still another twenty feet to the north on the opposite side of the road. The car that hit it, had been heading south.
I made sure there wasn’t any traffic in sight. Then, I told Uriah to sit and wait! I approached the carcass. It was a rooster, a big roster. With a red Comb, or was it a male ring-necked pheasant? No, it looked like a rooster…
It had the shape of a fat chicken. Well sort of. It was hit by a car!
I kept checking for cars, and took my eyes off Uriah for a second. In that time frame, he walked up to me and stared at the bird.
I glanced both ways along the road, and then asked Uriah. “Okay, what do you think it is, chicken or pheasant?”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him as I checked the road. Then I asked. “Okay, Uriah! What do you think it is, chicken or pheasant?”
I don’t think he cared. But wanting to get in on the game, he looked at the bird. Then he looked back at me! Then back at the bird! I could hear him loud and clear, “Can I take it? Huh? Come on let me take it!” His eyes sparkled and he started prancing around. His nails clicked loudly on the frozen blacktop.
I shook my head at him, “No! Let’s get out of the road.”
Uriah followed and only looked back once.
I saw a truck coming at us, really slow. We had enough time to walk along the road. Then move off the road, in-between the Blue Spruce and the Austrian Pine, at the north end of the front yard.
The truck turned out to be a farmer and his tractor; he was pulling a couple of swaying grain carts filled with corn. The farmer was very, very slowly making his way down the road. I waved at him. As I check the mail…
