Tag: going green

Categories
Nature Writing

I Walk In Your Mist Of Light, And Freeze My Hands~

It snowed during the night. I had anywhere, from two to four inches of snow lining the driveway.

On my walk to the mailbox, Uriah took off under a tree. The stinging winds irritated him! I kept walking.

Forty feet before the road, I spotted some tracks stretching out from the fence to the south, then across the driveway. I stopped took my hat off, and shook my head. Nope!  Not in the mood to trail after a suicidal chicken. Still, I knelt down near the tracks and noticed these were a lot smaller, and the prints weren’t as clear as the ones on Tuesday.

 This bird stopped under the Blue Spruce, I could see how it had scratched around in the snow, and then took off towards the pond.

 I had to follow. Obsession or stupidity!Either one didn’t matter…  I had to follow.

The bird, instead of staying near the road, had weaved around the dried grass and snow, and moved towards the center of the yard.   Within a hundred feet or so it reached the pond. Then turned in a wide circle and met up with its own tracks and doubled back.

I followed its tracks back to the fence, and saw that they ended under a Cedar tree.

This had to be a pheasant! She would be able to blend in under those evergreens easily. Unless Uriah flushed her out, I won’t find her.  I was just glad I hadn’t found  her dead in the road.

I went and got my mail.

 The road was a mist of white, from the drifting snow. I waved at the state police, as he slowly drove past.  

My right hand was freezing; I had lost my glove somewhere. I hope it was nearer the house and not in the pond.

Uriah, had been waiting and stepped out of the trees and followed me to the house.  

Tonight is a full moon, the second in a month, a Blue moon. At least it is for me.  In the southern hemisphere it is called a ‘Short Night Moon.’  Other parts of the world will be able to see a lunar eclipse

A few nights ago, even with cloud cover, the sky glowed.  I had walked though the darken house and looked out the window. The clouds felt like a blanket overhead, their edges, where the clouds thinned out, glowed.

Last night, while it snowed, the moon shined brightly through the seamless clouds  It was as if, someone was holding a piece of cloth in front of the moon. And still, its light could not be denied!

 Tonight the year will change. Remember the moonlight and follow your dreams.

*

I walk in your mist of light

 

Once when I was small
The moon was more than light
It brought on evil thoughts
Insanity and rage
Monsters under the bed
 
As I grew it became a romantic icon
Wanton ideas and lust
A time to laugh and dance and sing
A time to howl, without worries
Anticipation of tomorrows
 
Then when my children slept
It lit the path outside my door
Illuminating the end of a long day,
I could sit and gaze, relaxed
For all was quiet
 
Once in a blue moon, a phrase
That allowed me to reach beyond
A light of yellow-white, or reddish-orange
Was it ever blue?
My muse
 
My moon
You sway above me as the world turns
The days change into years
You hover above with promise
As I stare up at your face
 
I hear your whisper
For years to come…
Bring us luck, love and happiness
For a moon, blue or not,
You are my welcome friend
And, I dream in your light
**
*

Picture from word clip art

Categories
Nature Writing

A Cold Winter Morning, Cat Wants A Drink Of Water~

 

This morning I was woken up by Tomoe, our black half-Siamese female. She jumped into the bed and rubbed on my head, until I stirred.

”Tomoe, morning.” I mumbled pulling the covers over my head.

 Now that ruse doesn’t deter Tomoe.  She stuck her head under the edge of the blanket just enough so she found my hair and gave it a little tug.

“Ok, I’m awake. What do you want?’ I peeked out from under the blanket.

 Tomoe happily bumped my forehead and chirped.  She turned her back to me and jumped off the bed and sauntered towards the bathroom.

Tomoe’s greatest enjoyment is drinking water out of my husband’s hand. I am not her first choice; she just couldn’t wake him up. Reluctantly she decided to allow me the honor.

 I rolled over and poked Michael’s shoulder. “Tomoe’s thirsty.”

 He made an indistinguishable sound, and didn’t move.

Tomoe doesn’t meow like the other cats, she chirps like a baby chick, very sweet and gentle.  This coming June she will be with us three years. We had decided to adopt one cat, and came home with two.

 At the shelter, she was frightened, and hurt from over zealous little ones.

When she was handed to my husband she weighed two pounds. From that point on he never put her down.  He carries her, coo’s at her and hand feeds her food and water. When she is frightened, he will hide under blankets with her.  The house is safe, as long she can see her Daddy.   She plays Xbox with him, and complains if he isn’t feeling well. She follows him everywhere.

I could hear her musical chirp echoing off the bathroom walls.

I could tell myself I had two choices. One; stay in bed and ignore her. Or two; get up and give her what she wants.   But, in reality I have to get up. Tomoe is calling!

 I pushed off the blankets, and followed her summons.

Tomoe was pacing on the edge of the sink.  Her tail held high, she rubbed against my arm and asked for kisses, by lifting her head up high, and placing one paw on my arm.

 The running water sounded loud in the early morning quiet.  I filled the palm of my hand with cold water. Then turned off the faucet, and waited with my eyes closed as she daintily drank from my hand.

When she was finished she jumped off the sink and took my spot in the bed. 

At that point, Uriah realized I was up and decided he wanted out. Grabbing my robe I followed his happy wiggle to the door. I stepped outside with him, in that frigid morning air.

The sun was a defused yellow-white blur; it took over the entire southern sky.

The sky itself was a soft looking, powdery blue.

 Long rectangular shadows, from the trees, added straight blue lines that stretched along the ground.  Shadows skipped along the snow in frozen waves, patterned haphazardly across the yard in blues, grays and whites. 

Every tree was covered in whitish-blue frost, and the horizon was a blur of pastel blues.  

I could tell you how quiet it was. But I would be lying. One truck after another passed by on the road. I could hear the whining rumble before I saw them. They passed in a cloud of snow. Someone was busy working. I just wished they would slow down.

 I tossed out a few pieces of dog food onto the snow.  And watched as Uriah waddled off under the Blue Spruce, I stepped back inside the warm house.

  After about fifteen minutes I went to the door to let Uriah back in.  I was greeted by the shrill screech of a Blue Jay.  I watched the Young Blue Jay through the window. This bird’s color was duller, more grey than blue.  Its beak was very long and sharp looking.  Still a beauty!   The Jay landed next to the dog food.  Looked up at me, and grabbed one piece of kibble, and carried it off over the barn. Then turned to the east and blended into the trees.

Uriah came running up to the door with snow on his nose and back. He glanced at the pieces of kibble still in the snow.  Pawed at one piece and ate it. 

When I opened the door, he hurried back into where it was warm…

Categories
Nature Writing

I Stare Into A Place I Cannot Walk~The Ground Glistens With Temptation~

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…

Categories
Nature Writing

Would A Sign Help? ‘Chicken Or Pheasant Crossing, Slow Down’~

 

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…

Categories
Nature Writing

Where Will The Hawks Nest If All The Trees Are Gone?~

Everyone was woken up this morning, at seven o’clock, by Kenshin. He ran across the bed.  He pushed aside the vertical blinds. And he pawed at the closed windows. Then he talked and talked, and talked. Siamese talk a lot. They are very vocal cats…

I crawled out of bed and looked out the bathroom window.

  I saw the dark grey sky. I noticed the reddish color of the decks railings were topped with an icing of snow.   And then, I become aware of a slight movement near the bottom section of the deck. I scanned the lower deck for the rats.  I assumed,  the rats must have gotten Kenshin all worked up.  

But, it wasn’t the rat!  It was a very large hawk perched on the railing, just above the rat’s habitat.  This Buteo was not amused! I disturbed him!  It could have been the Red-tailed Hawk…  But, he looked a lot like the Swainson’s hawk that lives around here.

His breast feathers were puffed up, mottled white and reddish orange, mixed in with brown and black.  His deep rich colors blended in with his beige, downy winter feathers.  

The feathers on his head were slick dark, with browns and blacks. I didn’t notice the color of his tail feathers.  They were hidden by the decks railing. And I couldn’t see the color of his eyes. But I felt his gaze when he turned his head slightly.  He ruffled his feathers, in an irritated matter. His beak was hooked and sharp, thick and dark in color.

His stance was of pride.  A Buteo!  It radiated from him. He was beauty.  Beyond everything that was around him. He lived in this moment.

 I wished that I could be that self-assured, and free… There is irony in that word, “free.”

While he watched me, I saw a flicker of concern flash over his eyes. He stretched out his wings and jumped, and glided effortlessly along the ground.  Then he swooped upward into the trees.

I watched him spin and settle on a thin branch.  I immediately thought of how this hawk lost another nesting tree.

The past few days, the air has held a sweet, woody scent. Yesterday I saw what made that smell.

A few miles from my home, there is a grove of Oak trees.  Their ages ranged from seventy to hundred-fifty years old, craggily towering giants.

 I drove past those old trees yesterday and I saw empty spaces and tree stumps.  The Oaks were being cut down. I saw neatly stacked coffins waiting to be carted away.

Why cut down the trees during an ecological crisis?  Shouldn’t we be conserving nature? 

I find all this all very heartbreaking.  

A few hours later, I stepped  out on my deck. The clouds hung heavy and grey.  

In that muffled, snow covered silence.  I heard the hawk’s high pitch screech…

*

 Today, I reached my 2,000th  hit on my site today..Thank you guys! Comment and ask me to add you to my BlogRoll:-)

You can hear the call of the Swainson’s hawk, and other birds here;

http://identify.whatbird.com/obj/44/_/Swainsons_Hawk.aspx

Categories
Nature Writing

Some Cats And Rats And Popcorn~

I opened the vertical blinds and sat down at my computer and started typing. Tomoe my husband’s cat, silky black with yellow green eyes, saunter into the room. She called out with a cheerful chirping hello, and rubbed against my legs.  With one fluid leap, she was up on the desk and staring out the east window into the dog kennel.

She was sitting there only for a few minutes when she started making odd noises, a cross between a sneeze and a cough. I never heard her make that noise before.  She was staring intently out the window.

 I leaned over her to look outside; a rat was climbing the chain link fence attached to the dog kennel. Right next to the window!  It was weaving in and out of the holes.  He stopped and looked straight at me and continued its upward climb.  Then he crawled along the top of the cage.  Again, he stopped and leaned forward hanging upside down like an acrobat on a trapeze. Here’s the kicker!  He was looking in the window at me, looking at him….

Tomoe was shaking with excitement. I grabbed her, “Come on sweetie, let’s head up stairs and get mommy some coffee” She leaned backwards, and looked towards the window as I quickly carried her out the room.

Once in the kitchen, I pulled out my coffee cup and set it on the counter.  Tomoe had gone over to the sliding glass doors, and stuck her head between the vertical blinds, trying to look outside.

“Hang on, I’ll open them for you.” She made her little squeaking excited sounds and glided around my legs as I pulled the cord and opened the blinds.

Tomoe started pawing at the glass. I looked outside on the porch and saw that rat was climbing up the deck.  He ran over to the sliding door, looked right at me and stood on his hind legs….

I was not amused! Tomoe was ecstatic! Her happy sounds brought, PJ and her brother Kenshin running into the kitchen.  They all sat at the window, tails flipping with excitement, staring at the rat.  Who in turn, was stared at them.  I smiled, all they needed was popcorn!

A couple of years ago, somewhere around Christmas, I had made a big bowl of popcorn I didn’t finish. So in the spirit of giving, I took that popcorn out back with me, when I went for a walk. I sprinkled it under a large tree at the east end of the path. I assumed that with it being under the tree, an animal, or bird could safely eat it. A good deed for the holiday, feed the starving birds….

Come on! No laughing from the peanut gallery!

Well, I thought it was a great plan! The next day I walked out back expecting to find the popcorn gone.

Around the base of that tree it looked like a war zone!

Yes, animals and birds came to eat the popcorn. What I forgot, is this wasn’t a watering hole in Africa. Drink your fill and move on. Those rules don’t apply here.

Whoever showed up must have thought I set out a Smörgåsbord. There were feathers, parts of wings, odd bones, and fur, and drops of blood everywhere.

The popcorn was gone…

So, standing here today,  with that little rat staring at me through the door had me thinking.  I should pull out the popcorn maker and set up a pile of popcorn in the middle of the yard.

What do you think I should do?

Categories
Uncategorized

Hey, Mr. Postman Drive My Mail To The Door~

The deck has been making popping sounds all night. With temperatures dropping fast, the water that was absorbed by the deck boards was expanding. The deeper the ground freezes. The colder the air feels. And the more the deck pops. I keep picturing nails shooting out.

I nearly forgot to check the mail today. I put on a heavy flannel shirt with my stylish orange coat, my black waterproof old boots. Wrapped a scarf around my neck, and stuck a grey knit hat on my head and pulled on my over sized brown gloves…

I have to stop here, because my younger male cat, walked off with one of the gloves and I had to sweet-talk him to get it back. I was a bit overheated by the time I grabbed my ski pole walking stick, and called to Uriah to follow me down the driveway.

 Just outside the garage doors, Uriah stopped, lifted his face to the winds, and promptly turned around and asked to go back into the garage. I bribed him with a few, six to be exact, Liver Snaps.

 Closer to the house, on the left side of the driveway as you face west, is a very tall Blue Spruce. It blocks the wind and cold beautifully As soon as I passed that tree I readjusted my scarf and gave Uriah another biscuit.

 The sun was shining brightly and the air was freezing.

Uriah decided if he had to follow me he would stay behind me the entire time.  This way I was blocking the wind.

“Uriah, you can’t be cold.” I scolded him; he grinned and listened for the word treat, or biscuit.

I showed him my gloved hands were void of treats.  “You don’t need any more. You have too much body fat!”

Uriah must have taken offense at that, because he sneezed and wandered over to the fence line and urinated. He waddled back, but never looked at me.

 I made him stop and sit before we got all the way to the road.

The thirty feet before the driveway ended, the blacktop ended. The next twenty feet was dirt and gravel. Tire ruts were filled in with smooth solid ice and banked with craggy ice patches. 

The last ten feet slopped upwards. I trudged up that slight incline at the end of the driveway.  Then stopped and tried to plan out my path.  Those few feet to the mailbox were littered with large chunks of shining, grayish white, ice.  Slick and jagged!  If I wasn’t careful I would fall.

I waited for three cars to past, before I moved up and left, towards the mailbox.

The mailbox door was open. That’s not unusual, trucks speed along this road. Add in winds and I’m surprised they don’t rip out the entire box, post and all.  So far this winter, knock on wood, my mail hasn’t gotten blown out onto the road.

  I checked inside the box, nothing!  I slowly moved back towards my waiting dog.

“Hey! Uriah, do you know how to figure out a formula for Relative Velocity?”  I grabbed his muzzle with both gloved hands and rubbed his face as I continued talking. “Take a truck, a mailbox, and add in wind speed …”

Uriah looked at me, lowered his head to the ground and started to jump around alike a puppy.

“Okay, I get it! You want to go back home!”  I headed towards the house as Uriah happily trotted directly in front of me.

On the way back, I noticed a large softball size piece of ice sitting on the side of the driveway. Stupidly, not realizing it was frozen to the ground. I kicked it trying to get it off the blacktop.  I made a mental note never to do that again. My boots helped to protect my toes. Uriah looked like he was laughing at me…

Categories
Nature Writing

My Wind Is Stronger Than Your Wind~

I live near a small town. I am two and a half miles out of town into farm country. The town was built on a lower section of land and its only 5 sq. miles.   So when the winds are blasting my home, the  town has a nice breeze.

  Only once, that I can recall, in the past fourteen years did the town get hit ‘hard’ with heavy winds.

It was a couple of years ago; I was heading into the small grocery store.  As I walked into the store, I could hear the townspeople talking about the winds.

 (Townspeople that word sounds like they have torches and pitchforks and are shooing out the monsters)

“How horrible!”  I heard, as I moved up and down the aisles.  

“Have you ever seen anything like this? “ Someone else asked me, as I stood paying for my groceries. 

Now, I didn’t want to start a conversation that sounded like I was in kindergarten. My winds are stronger than your winds, type of argument. Instead I held up my hand, palm towards her, in a signal for her to wait a minute.  I walked outside the store, a few seconds later I came back in and answered.  I said, “Seen worse.”  

A farmer was in the line behind her, he just nodded in agreement.

She looked confused.  I got a good look at myself in the front window. My hair was standing on end. Smiling to myself I collected my groceries and walked out the door.   

I check online for the daily temperatures. Then, I step outside to see if the winds are blowing.

 Or if it is summer… or is the sun shining?  Or not!  

In town they also have more tree coverage. All this gives them a slightly warmer winter temperatures than where I am at, just mere two and half miles ‘down the road.’ 

 Heavy sigh!

What does all that mean?  Well, when the temperature online is 11 degrees above zero. Like it is right now! Where I’m at it’s … 5 degrees.  Heat wave!

It will get colder….

 Years ago, I made a bright yellow garden sign with this poem;

“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.”

~John Ruskin

Categories
Nature Writing

Fog, Slush, Freezing Feet!! I Need Coffee, Off To Seattle’s Best Coffee Café~

Yesterday morning I was outside early. The air was heavy with moisture.  A thick fog made visibility nearly impossible. The temperatures had risen enough that the snows had deflated. Still, that sheet of white stretched across the yard, patterned with footprints, then disappeared into the haze.

Uriah happily ran ahead of me, he kept his nose in the snow and pushed it along.  I examined one of his ‘nose prints’ and saw a maze of trails filtering under the snow.  

Chipmunks rarely showed their faces in the winter, they keep low and hidden. These are their trails.  With the help of Uriah’s’ nose and the melting snow the tunnels were caving in.

Under that white snow, everything was slippery slushy, grey and wet, which made my ability to walk a little hazardous. 

I made a number of mistakes yesterday. The first was going for a walk past the backyard…

I grabbed the mate to my solitary ski pole and started off across the yard.  Even using both ski poles as if I had on cross county skis, my feet slipped.  

Next mistake, I wasn’t wearing boots.  By the time walked back into the house, my gym shoes had soaked up a lot of cold water.

My feet were frozen and my back was screaming. I told myself to stop, stand where I was and let Uriah come to me..

I stood off near the deck, and watched those rats climb over the live trap. They ran in and out and stepped on the trigger pad. Never setting it off!   I need to declare war on these rodents, before they get out of hand!

Uriah came and sat next to me. He started to whine when he saw a rat poke its head out a hole. It had its own maze of tunnels under the snow.  The differences between the rat and the chipmunk; I hardly ever see a chipmunk in the winter. These rats, when they feel the vibration of my footsteps they stick their heads out and say, “Hello, feed me!”

Later today I will set up the live trap with birdseed farther away from the deck, in the open. I can hope, that the freezing weather won’t stop the hawk from hunting.

One way or another…  Their days are numbered; at least that is what my husband said.  He bought a couple of rat traps.

What a difference a few hours can make..

I had an appointment in Algonquin. Anytime I’m in that area, I stop by the, Borders Books, and get cup of hot coffee at, Seattle’s Best Coffee café.  I sat, read and bought myself a treat, a slice of chocolate peppermint loaf cake.  My favorite things, books, chocolate, peppermint and coffee, all I needed was a lap top and I would have been in heaven.  *Now I mentioned this, because it was nice and warm.*

By 9 o’clock that evening, I was once more standing outside with my dog. Freezing!

“Okay, Uriah! Go do your business!”  In order for you to get the full effect, imagine each word spoken haltingly. Add some strong freezing winds, and an epithet, or two. 

I have to admit, with the snow rock hard, walking was a lot easier than earlier in the day. 

I looked over at the live trap, it sat open and all the bird seed was missing.

I sighed heavily, shivered, and shook my head. Then laughed at the irony, when the winds triggered the trap and the door snapped shut…

Categories
Nature Writing

A Dark Shadow Moved Through The Fields~

I’m standing by the open door looking outside; the screen is closed so my cats don’t escape.   The sun is coming up and I can’t see it.

 Outside the sky is a solid blanket of bluish grey and white, seamlessly blending into the snow on the ground.   Shadows of dark browns and black make up the trees and bushes.

The air is very still. I could hear water running through the rain gutters and dripping off the deck from the melting snow. In a musical sound that a dripping water faucet can never emulate. 

I pick up my old cat; PJ, he is fourteen years young.  He rubs my chin in greeting then turns his attention to the outside cold air, and listens.  Just the tip of his bushy dark grey tail flips, twitching incessantly.   I could feel his heart pounding.   His whole body stiffens and his ears rotate forward. He is listening.

I strain to hear what he hears.  Nothing!   The only thing I perceive is the silence and melting snow.   

For PJ, there is something out there! Under my hands I feel his muscles tighten. He sits a little taller in my arms.   His breathing slows down. He cocks his head to the right, and then leans into me. I set him down next to the  door. He turns, ignoring the screen door with its inviting outdoor smells.   For him, the safety of being on this side of the screen is over ridden by whatever is outside. He runs away from the door.  Without a backwards glance at me, he disappears under my bed.

“Silly, PJ!” I mock him, and then look back outside, wondering.

Uriah starts to whine. He knows I am awake and wants out.

I reach for the door; I just start to close it, when one of the black shadows in the field next door, moves.  It hesitates when I look straight at it.  I close the door and quietly look out the window.

Now I am waiting, watching the field.

The dark figure rises from the snow again, and moves off towards the east. Two other dark spots stand up and turn towards the house. They stop for a good minute, or so. The hairs on my neck are standing on end. 

Positioning myself at the window, I watch their darkness blend into the trees.

PJ let out one ‘Meow’ from under the bed. Then he stuck his head out.  How does he know they are gone? Or was he just reacting to the door being closed?  

Slipping out from under the bed, PJ walked nonchalantly over to me. All the while informing me in cat speak, “He wasn’t hiding, he was just checking for dust bunnies!”

 By the look of the fuzz on his head he found some…

 Laughing, I pick him up heading towards the kitchen. “Come on PJ! We need to hunt for our breakfast.”

He purred loudly…

This  fantastic sound I found on Youtube.

Donkey Kong Country Piano Water Theme Music