Tag: green

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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

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Uncategorized

What A Difference A Day Makes~Merry Christmas!

This morning when I stepped outside I was able to walk around to the dog kennel.  The ice had disappeared off the driveway and the deck.  It was in the mid-thirties. The air was oddly warm, and had a feel of spring, even though snow still covers the yard. The puffy clouds above me cleared and blue sky shown through.

I am going out to relatives for Christmas dinner and I wanted to post before I left. Here is a piece I wrote, December 17, 2009, I had written two other Blog entries that day, and I thought three was just too much.  So I posted it today.  Enjoy!

 I walked out the garage door, and pulled it closed behind me. The wet snow earlier in the week had warped the door frame, now with everything frozen the door was pulling back when I opened or closed it. Why is it, that when I can’t work outside, due to the weather. Something breaks, or as in this case the door frame, the side by the near the hinges, decides to disintegrate…

The sky above me is bright blue and clear. The air is dangerously cold!  I was surprised to see a dozen, or so small flighty birds hopping from tree to tree and singing.

Slipping my knit hat off my head I stopped to listen. I could hear birds chirping, singing and complaining.  Looking around I found even more of them in the trees next to the barn and shed.  They flittered between the dead evergreen next to the shed and the gravel in front of the barn. Then onto the leafless mulberry trees on the West side of the barn.

Small round birds, I believe they are, Dark-Eyed Juncos, soft grey feathers on their heads and back.  That grey reaches along the top of their tail feathers, then changes to white slipping to their underbelly and chest. They looked like they sat in a can of white paint. Right now they were complaining loudly and flying from one tree to the next.  How dare I interrupt their fun!

I heard a single call of a Blue Jay in the trees, then silence.  

Off around the back yard, looking south, past the outside dog kennel.   I could see a red blur jumping in-between the miniature crab apple trees. Male Cardinals, searching out dried seeds from the taller dried grasses that leaned against the trees.

Slipping on my hat, I whistled for Uriah. Slowly and nosily, we made our way across the frozen snow to the back path.

 I stopped at the mid-way point, the Northern tree line.  To stare up into the blue, blue sky in-between the branches of a fifty foot tree. The sky was a solid dark blue, almost an Electric Indigo.  The deepest part of that color sat on the tips of that leafless tree, and then weakened into a lighter blue as I moved off center.  Looking towards the south-east, the sun was a brilliant white, fading the sky into a powder blue.

Today, I was using two ski poles to maneuver through the snow.  Walking carefully, I made my way towards home. The snow, where I had walked days before, had frozen over into an uneven ice rink.

Uriah’s long black nails on the frozen snow, made a sound similar to him walking on a wooden floor. His toes were spread out over the ice, and he gripped with those hard nails.   He stayed by me for a moment, and then ran under the old apples trees chasing something only he could see. 

 I purposely cut out a new pattern in the snow, avoiding the dangerous path. I set my heels down first so I could break the top of the snow and keep my balance. Otherwise, stepping down carefully wouldn’t allow me to break through the top layer of ice, and I nearly lost my footing.

I began to notice the sound. My first step with my heel, was like an ‘AHHR- then, to complete the step, the rest of my foot rolled into the snow, with a, ‘RRRRR,’ sound.

Ahhhrrr-rrrrrr …

Add in the sound of the ski poles. Starting out with a stabbing crunching, then ending with a  ‘Brrrrr,’ sound, as I tilted the pole moving into the next step.

Walking along, I was paying so much attention to the sounds I was making, that they became over powering. I stopped and removed my hat so I could hear something other than my noisy intrusion into such a quiet, sunny day, 

I couldn’t hear one bird on the path, nothing! Silence! I probably scared them deeper into the tree line.   

Walking back towards the house and dragging my noise with me.  When I heard the sound of the train in town, I stopped to listen, “Thump- thump- thump!”  Without the winds the train sounded muffled and very far away. Like a thick growl, vibrating along the ground….

*

*

 
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

Snowball Hockey Played With The Cat’s Rules~

I stepped outside on the deck and watched the snow gently float to the ground; everything was covered with a wispy cloud of white.

 Perception and location is everything when snow gazing. Mere inches in front of my face, gigantic flakes drifted quickly down to earth. There were hand sized spaces between each one.

 Farther out in the yard the snow came down smaller, compact and fast, with hardly enough room for the tip of a pencil to fit between each flake.  The Bog Willows and apple trees looked as though they were caught in a snow globe snowstorm.

I stared upwards into the fast, falling snow.  I watched large flakes rapidly falling towards me, looking like bright stars as they fell from the grey-white sky. They touched my face with a stinging cold, and held onto my eyelashes and hair.

Before I stepped back into the house, I stomped my feet on the outside welcome mat.  Kenshin, our two year old Siamese mix, rushed up to the door as I entered.  I pushed him back and stepped into the kitchen.  He stared up at me with his blue eyes. Then he turned and rubbed against my leg, the wall, the door, and the kitchen table leg.

I reached down and scooped him up.  “What’s up, Kenshin? You want to see outside?”  I asked, then reopened the inside glass door, but not the outside screen.

He was quiet in my arms, as we stood there watching the snowflakes drifting to the ground.

There wasn’t a wind.  Each flake drifted slowly on a downward path, one after another. Hundreds of puffy crystalline flakes piled up on the wooden deck.

With one paw, Kenshin reached out and touched the screen. He loves snow.  I slipped my shoes back on, held him tightly and opened the screen door, then stepped outside.

Kenshin immediately started to thunder purr, vibrating my arms as I held him tight.   Carefully, I walked over to the garden table, which sat outside year-round. 

 Kenshin rolled over in my arms so he faced the sky.  When he realized I was near the table, he twisted and leaped from my arms, landing in the center of the snow covered table.  Instantly, he rolled over and over covering himself with snow.  Then laid quietly on his back and watched the snow drift down on him. 

Being a very active cat, that immobility lasted a whole-one-minute.  Then he began batting at the flakes and purred even louder.

I laughed!  His cheeks puffed up in a grin.

The snow was falling faster.  Kenshin got some in his eyes, and on his nose.  He was not happy with that! Within a split second, he leapt upwards, turned his feet towards the ground and landed in the middle of the table.  Within that same moment, he slid to the floor and scampered under the table.  From there, he batted at the clumps of snow left behind from my shoes.

Deep into his insane mode, Kenshin slid around the deck like a hockey player chasing a puck.

Quickly, I moved over to the stairs and sat on the top step.  I waited for him to make a break. I would never be able to catch him if he got down the steps.

He can leap straight up in the air nearly five feet, when he gets crazed. Like he was now!   He moves at lightning speeds.  He also loves dogs. And with the overcast sky, I can bet we were being watched from the trees.  I wasn’t going to give him a chance at getting passed me, and into the yard.

Suddenly, Kenshin jumped up and twisted in mid-air, then slid in my direction.   He wasn’t happy when I grabbed him in mid-slide. 

Holding onto the railings, I moved slowly back into the house. Kenshin decided to lie in my arms upside down so he could bat at a few more flakes.

I put him down on the rug next to the door, and he took off fast. He slid on his hind quarters through the living room, then down the hall and back again. He was jumping and flipping crazily from the snow melting on his back.

I brought him a hard packed snowball and rolled across the floor.  He grabbed it with his paws and took off for the goal line…

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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

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

Music For A Cold Winter Day~

 

The vibrations from the snowblower moved up my arms into my neck. Then crawled down my back and settled in my feet, Pushing the sound and movement back into the ground so it could make its rounds again. Sputtering and choking the machine moved slowly, with me at the helm, though the slush and snow towards the front of the driveway.

I stopped and looked around for my dog; he was off near the pond his head buried in a snowbank as he tried to flush out a rabbit.

 “Hey stupid,” I pulled off my right glove and placed it in my left hand. Then I tried to straighten my knit hat, which sat crooked on my head and covered my eyes and not my ears. 

Uriah looked up.

“Go kill a rat!”  I ordered, and pointed to the left, towards his kennel.

Instead he grinned, a wide doggie grin and started madly digging.

I put back on my glove and held onto the right handgrip, which rotated the auger. My left hand controlled the self-propulsion controls.

Once more, I started the snowblower on its slow tedious path towards the road. The auger pulled in chunks of slush and ice, then pushed it though the impeller up and out of the discharge chute. It should have been thrown out wide onto the side of the driveway. Instead it sort of ‘crapped’ it out, which is what will happen to the blower if I overtax the motor.  

My hat slipped back over my eyes, and my feet slid on the icy slush, still I followed what I thought was the line of the drive.  But, when I looked up, then back.  I saw my path was a drunken line. 

At least it was warmer outside than I thought, just on the other side of thirty degrees. A heat wave!

Uriah came up next to me and sat his butt on the cleared section of blacktop. I stopped walking.  

“What?” I smiled at him, “Oh!  I see you came by to take over for me, right?”

He wiggled and barked at me, then looked directly at my pocket.

I took off my right glove and put my hand in my pocket.  I pulled out the small square-ish stone I had placed in there yesterday.

“You don’t want this.” I held out the rock so Uriah could sniff it.  

He sneezed and looked disappointed.

I slipped the rock back in my pocket and pulled out a milk bone, he jumped up and barked.  I tossed the biscuit towards the pond. Slipped back on my glove, and started the slow, walk with, Chopin’s Funeral March Sonata, stuck in my head.  I didn’t turn around to see if Uriah found the biscuit.

I was forty feet from the road when the winds hit.  A blast of cold air pushed me slightly backwards. I steadied the blower and moved forward.

The farm field across the road looked white and grey. Winds whipped up the fallen and falling snow and threw it at me. 

 Dark brown tree branches were coated white with the frozen snow.  As the winds moved around the trees, they sounded like a thick glass full of marbles being shaken. 

I pulled my scarf around my face and over my nose.  

Patiently, I waited until the cars on the road had passed by.  Then I stepped out onto the edge of the driveway.   I tried to clear the  mound of packed snow that the snow plow had dumped on the end of the drive. I glanced at my black mail box it was covered half way in ice, and slush. It was standing! It was a good day! 

Every time I spotted a car, I pulled back and waited. The drivers in this area seem to think bad weather means drive faster and pass everyone, even in the no passing zone.   

That’s the reason my mailbox ended up in the ditch -multiple times last winter!

 I took off my right glove again, and straightened my hat, yet again.  I watched as the winds pick up more force and shove the snow into drifts on and across the road.

I live on a stretch of road called, tornado alley. I can literally watch the winds as they gust across the road. Right now, that heavy wind was near the northern section of that road. It moved like a horizontal tornado.

I could see the line of winds pushing across the fields; Old Man Winter with his cheeks puffed out, a twinkle in his eye laughed like a madman. 

The cars passed.  I started my slow walk back down the drive, as my face froze, and the winds played tag with the blowing snow…

Picture from:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Morozko.gif
Categories
Nature Writing

“The Best Laid Schemes O’ Mice An’ Men Go Often Askew”~Robert Burns

Yesterday  morning,  I was up with the sun. I opened the window blinds next to the computer, the window that faces east and I watched the sunrise.  A blanket of Altostratus clouds covered half the sky, rippling from the sunset towards the west.

  Along the horizon a narrow strip of pinkish, reddish, sunrise slipped through the break in the clouds and spread upwards, weaving under and over the clouds.  Then peeked out to outline the ripple of clouds in a yellow, white, and pink tinge, all the while the clouds raced, from west to east, along the southern skyline.

Kenshin, my half Siamese male, jumped effortlessly onto the windowsill. He settled his hind legs, with a wiggle, positioning himself on the ledge.  The tip of his tail flipped as he stared outside.

Kenshin’s sister, Tomoe, jumped up next to him in perfect pantomime.  With a flip of her tail she sat beside him. Her shining black fur rolled in irritation.   They both turned, two set of eyes followed my every move, his light blue and her bright gold eyes.   

 Loosing interest in me, they turned back to the window and watched a rat hopping around the outside kennel.  Their mouths quivered.  An odd sound came from both of them. He made a high pitch growling meowing sound. She kept opening and closing her mouth with a smacking sound. They both stared out the window, then back at me, willing me to open the window so they could do what cats do best…  Hunt!

“No, Kenshin! No, Tomoe, I have to trap those rats myself.” 

I don’t know if they understood what I said, or just got tired of wishing after a rat,  when I added, “No outside!” They both jumped down, and Kenshin gave me downward frown.  Tomoe just glared, as she flashed those golden eyes.   They both ran out of the room giving me a backward, scowl. A teenage girl couldn’t have done that look any better.  

One rat, was an irritation, I counted six! They aren’t big. About the size of my hand, but they have to go!  Just figuring out how is the problem.

 I Googled, “How to kill a rat humanely.”

One site said, use poison.  Nope not an option!  I don’t want to kill the Hawks and Owls that hunt around here. Beside the obvious, poison can kill my cat or dog if they eat the dieing rat.

If a poisoned rat gets caught in the walls, Well, that smell will be horrible. I  wondered what would happen if it died, lying on the dirt of my garden and I didn’t see it until spring. Wouldn’t that poison leach into the soil? Big, emphatic, “Yes”  answers that question.

 I found, ‘Rat Zappers.’ on Amazon.  Electrocute the rat starting at forty dollars and up. I checked my purse, no money, on to the next idea.

I found a site, that had the stomp and squish method- it says it all.

There is the bee bee gun method. I looked at the windows and the chain link fence and saw how that could go wrong.

The best, economical rat trap is a cat.  If the rat stays outside, and my cats stay only indoors, they won’t come in direct contact with each other.  But if they ever come inside, they will be used as a squeaky toy. The proximity factor just knocked Kenshin and Tomoe out of the equation. 

I have a live catch trap in the barn. I decided that would be the best first try, for now. Besides I won’t need to pay for the supplies.

I headed for the barn, and dug out the trap and placed it in Uriah’s kennel. I put some of his food on the inside platform, which in theory is suppose to close the door when the rat steps on it.  That’s the plan.

“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Go often askew,” ~ Robert Burns’s poem, ‘To a Mouse.’

I had three rats in the cage; they were walking all over that platform. And it never triggered the cage door…

I went back outside and tried to loosen the piece of metal.  Then I placed a board across the platform, with food perched on top.

I went back into the house and watched. Not one of those rats came near the cage. I will leave the trap outside all night.

I just hope I don’t catch a skunk…

I got my 1,000 hit on my site today..Thank you guys! Comment and ask me to add you to my BlogRoll:-)

Jones & Son, The rat trap people
http://www.rattraps.org.uk/Rat-Traps/about.aspx
Rat Zapper
http://www.amazon.com/s?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=rat+zapper+ultra
Robert Burns World Federation
http://www.worldburnsclub.com/poems/translations/554.htm
Categories
Nature Writing

I Howled At The Moon

I howled at the moon, laughed and howled again. Uriah tilted his head at me and sat down. He looked like he was enjoying my song. Maybe… Or not. I couldn’t get him to howl. I told him he was no fun. He thumped his tail against the ground.

 The moon may be full, but I have seen it larger. It was glowing white, like a flashlight shining through a window; it had a ring around it, bright white with an orange halo.

The winds have shifted. This afternoon they were blowing gently at me from the north-west. Right now, at seven o’clock, they were coming straight out of the west, strong enough to blow away the remaining leaves on the front lawn. And it was cold.

The clouds were very high up, possibly Cirrocumulus clouds. I could see them in the moonlight, racing across the sky.

I shivered my way back to the house, telling myself to hang a sweater next to my coat, so I won’t forget it when I go out tomorrow.  Tonight I will hide under the covers.