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…

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
Poetry

The Horizon Touches The Sky

I wrote this May 1, 2007- I re-edited today-

I live in the mid west, so the horizon touches the sky

Not like in the Rockies where the land raises up to the heavens

 I was walking my dogs, and feeling down…

 Zeus and Uriah ran off to chase a chipmunk… 

Sampson walked slowly next to me

He had a hard day today

The heavy air brought on grand maul seizures, three to be exact

The bump on his head was larger

So he was moving slowly

I parroted him as we made our way around the yard

I turned and looked into the setting sun

With my hand on Sampson’s head

We stood, and watched 

The sky was bright with orange streaks

With shadowy clouds below

That barely touched the tree line on the horizon

Darker clouds stretched out in a half circle then moved outward

I kept staring, thinking

I was missing something

Something bigger than myself

The colors were changing, glowing pink then deeper red

The darker clouds stayed in the same pattern

I felt I was on a shoreline

Looking out over water

Off to the right a pier stretched out into the waves

And then beyond that, more water until it reached the far shore

At this moment, this place was real

It existed

This place of deep heavy colors

Gold, orange, reds and pinks, dark blue and purples

Colors blanketed me, with hope

Sampson sighed…

Then moving slowly in the fading light

He headed to the pond

Where he hesitated

For only a second

Then stepped into the mirror like water

Startling a duck that flew off quacking towards the setting sun

The Frogs stayed and shared his swim

Thirsty, he drank from the pond, loud and sloppy

Then slowly, extricated himself from the muddy bottom

He turned and looked up at me

Pleased I was there

Then raced up the bank

Flopped onto the green grass and

Rolled around like he was in heaven

 

 

*Sampson had to be put to sleep because of a brain tumor; December 5, 2007 . 

This dog literally saved my life. I will write about that. He was  smart, sweet, gentle and very big.

Categories
Nature Writing

Music Without An IPod~

I walked outside to a world powdered over with white, white snow, and a pale blue cloudless sky.

 The day was bight and quiet or so I thought. I didn’t slip or slide when I reached the path, which was no longer muddy, but covered in a thin layer of white.  The mud underneath was frozen it gave slightly as I walked; foot prints from yesterday were set in place. The beige grass waved in a greeting.

 Uriah kept whining at my side until I reached in my pocket and gave him one of his biscuits. Then he heard a sound and took off in the trees.

I walked quickly around the path, alone; my thoughts of a warm cup of coffee waiting for me in the kitchen stopped me from enjoying this moment.

I dragged my feet around trees and under the bushes.  I hurried past the dip in the ground, used as a runoff from flood waters; today it was empty, except for dried foliage strewn around.   Rocks and dirt spilled out of the muskrats burrows, frozen and covered in snow. 

I stepped into a pile of snow covered leaves. Sounds changed at that point. I heard the squeak of packed snow as I walked and the crisp sound of the leaves hidden under that snow.

 I stopped took off my knit hat and looked up into the sky, and listened.

A breeze, soft, and easy drifted around my legs and into the tall grass. Then it rustled along the ground, picking up speed, until the air moved in a sweeping fashion, and shifted upwards.  

My eyes were drawn to the tops of four trees; they still had a few dried leaves clinging to the top most branches. They glistened with ice and rustled, the sound rose, then drifted to silence as the wind moved on across the fields.

I closed my eyes and waited.  Listening patiently for…?

 I heard the wind moving towards me in a billowing roll. It was if the Maestro had walked up to the podium, raised both hands for silence towards the Orchestra.

 Everything stopped! Not a sound! Not a bird!  Not a bit of grass moved. Until his hand moved in the downward beat and the Orchestra started playing.  

Winds rolled over the fields. Sound amplified and increased in pitch. It was if the wind was given instruction to play, and enticed the birds to join in. They fluttered in the trees, waiting their turn. I imagined fairies and gnomes dancing on that wind.  

Trees limbs slipped against each other making sweet, higher pitch sounds of a flute. The sounds whispered, and then stopped.  After a few seconds, a melody was taken up by a small bird. His solo ended and the wind gently rustled the dry grass, applauding.   

I heard the heavy muffled roll, as a new gust of wind traveled above my head bringing everyone into play.

 Then silence…   I whispered to the wind, “Bravo.” 

I heard Uriah fussing about in the trees, I called for him.   “Uriah, you’re that one person in the audience that won’t be quiet”

He ran out at me, and promptly sat at my feet.

“To late the concert is over.” 

I headed back to the house, no longer in a hurry…

Picture from:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Vzevolozhsky%27s_costume_sketch_for_Nutcracker.jpg
Categories
Nature Writing

Where’s Theodor Seuss Geisel? I Need To Ask A Question..

 A snap shot:

Eleven AM; I was sitting at my computer when Uriah starts to bark. He was outside in the kennel, which is outside the window next to my computer.

There are two windows in the room where I do my writing. One faces south. When I look through that window I can see a lattice wooden fence, my neighbor’s barn, an odd amount of leafless trees, a Blue Spruce, Mulberry tree, one small Lilac bush. Add in an expanse of grass in-between me, and all those things I just described.  Also, outside that southern facing window, to the left, is an old rosebush.

The second window faces east.

I am in a room on the lower level of the house.  So when I look out any of the windows, I look straight ahead, nearly ground level.

That east facing window has a space of about three feet between the window and Uriah’s outdoor kennel.  Which is constructed with sections of, four or six foot wide chain link fencing. I believe the dimensions are twelve by eight feet.

The kennel gate is on the north side.  A piece of wooden fencing is also connected to that section, on the outside, next to the gate. 

The Southern section, across from the gate, also has wooden fencing covering about three fourths of the chain link.  Above the kennel is the deck. The extra wood blocks some of the wind, rain and snow.  

Uriah has a dog igloo made of heavy plastic, or PVC- I am guessing at what it’s made of.  The ground is paved with light colored bricks.

When I look out the east window, I can see right into Uriah’s kennel, and he can see me at the computer.

Because of the chain link fencing, I can look directly through his kennel, straight onto the vegetable garden, which is about forty feet long; to be exact I would have to measure. Not today..

 Beyond the garden is the lawn. The lawn stretches out to the old apple trees, then onto the old evergreens.  Behind those sixty foot trees, starts the walking path.

Uriah started barking; I stood up and looked out the window. The snow was coming down heavy, big puffy white flakes.  Uriah was wagging his tail and looking east, out over the garden. For a second, I thought he was barking at the rat that steals his food.

 I saw the rat, standing in the garden on his hind legs, eating one of Uriah’s milk bone biscuits…

I blinked, trying to focus on the rat. Instead, what I saw was a coyote standing at the edge of the garden.

This all seemed surreal to me. I was watching Uriah and the coyote. The coyote was watching the rat, The rat was watching me.   Uriah was still barking at the coyote.

All I needed at that point was for one of my cats to wake up, and jump up on the windowsill.

This would make a great children’s’ book…Unless someone got hurt.

Picture from
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Seuss_sculpture.jpg
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.

Categories
Nature Writing

Clouds Touched The Earth

The day started out cool, wet, and misty, with the clouds touching the earth.

 I walked through those  clouds this morning, as I navigated the muddy path. No longer overflowing with water, which had drained off during the night, the path now was a mess of slippery and slimy mud.

 I decided if I walked carefully and slowly, while holding onto my ski pole and the Bog Willows that grew on the sides of the path, I wouldn’t fall and get covered in mud.

 That was the plan.

I really should have told Uriah the plan.

Halfway into the path and feeling proud I hadn’t kicked up any of the permanent staining mud, I stopped and looked back at Uriah. He stood at the edge of the mud, tongue hanging out and a big smile on his fury face. He wasn’t looking at me; I turned back and saw a grey squirrel nosing around the base of a tree. My eyes swept the ground from the squirrel, past me to Uriah. I took in all that mud.

Then watched, in slow motion as Uriah stood up, and charged at the squirrel, mud kicked up over his head, as he raced past.  

What I said could not be printed here.

 Uriah didn’t even notice. In his head, he was chasing the big bad squirrel.

On my head sat a clump of mud, with some moss mixed in…

Within the next second he took off into the trees, barking.

I ignored him while I called his name. I walked all the way around the path and he stayed where he was, in the trees barking.

The fog moved through the trees, giving everything a soft feel. Birds yelled at me, or maybe Uriah. Crows, Blackbirds, and Blue Jays flew to the tops of the trees screaming in irritation. Cardinals were on the lower branches, as they followed me around the path. They landed in the trees and bushes just ahead, or off to the side.  As I passed they flew on ahead, waiting on the next branch.

I slipped through the mud, and I headed back towards the house.

Uriah stayed in the trees and continued to bark.

Finches and dark-eyed junco, and black-capped chickadees, flittered in-between the trees as I passed by. 

I noticed this year’s over produced bird, the Sparrow. At least fifty of them were in the grass around the burn pile; they flew up into the blue spruce, and chattered away.  I startled those Sparrows as I passed by, I stopped and  watched; they took flight heading over the roof in perfect synchronization, turning to the left, then right as they maneuvered around trees, until they landed in my neighbor’s trees and bushes. 

Last year the over abundant bird was the Common Grackle. The year before, Mourning Doves flourished.

It took only a moment for me to wonder, when the birds of prey will notice all those sparrows. Suddenly, a high pitch screech echoed above and around me.  The Red-tailed hawk,  had already seen them.

Red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensi)

http://www.illinoisraptorcenter.org/Field%20Guide/redtailpictures.html

Categories
Nature Writing

Moon Phases and Sunsets

 

As I walked out the garage door, and looked to my right. I could see the Waxing Gibbous moon, nearly full, glowing white in the still, blue sky. It was dusk and the sun had slipped to the horizon and was quickly disappearing. Last night the sky was streaked with fury red. Tonight it was a pale defused orange color.  

Uriah and I walked towards the front pond, instead of on the back path. The path was still under an inch of water, and slippery. With the sun going down, I was afraid I would fall into the pitch black mud. Not my idea of a fun night.

 Staring into the blue sky, I found it hard to differentiate between the summer sky at dusk and this sky. There was only one cloud, possibly Cirrus, splattered over head looking very much like a flattened out tornado. Its bottom point aimed at the setting sun, while the large cone top swirled above my head.

Uriah came over and leaned against my leg. He was still nervous from the gun fire all afternoon. I have a neighbor who loves to target shot. For hours… 

“Its okay,” I whispered, as I rubbed his face. “He isn’t shooting anymore.”

At that moment, shots rang out; to be precise, six times the gun, sounded like a 22. Uriah stood up, then sat down and sighed heavily.  

“Come on, boy.” I patted my leg as I walked away from Uriah.  “At least he’s not shooting the big stuff.”

 I really have to learn how to be quiet. Two shots rang out, with an intense deep, BOOM! BOOM! Those shots vibrated through the ground.

I called Uriah to walk around the pond, and gave him a Milkbone dog biscuit, which made him happy. While the there was still light he needed his exercise. I was relieved, when he decided to trotted on ahead.

 A waft of warm barbeque air disturbed the cold, damp wood smell, but only in small pockets. Odd!  I took four steps and I walked into a cold, damp woody smell. Then, I moved forward two more steps, into warm air smelling like hot dogs and summer. It had to do with the lack of a breeze. The air was extremely still.

 All, this was making me hungry.

An angry Cardinal clicked high in the trees; another one closer towards the house answered the first. I wondered if they were upset with me, or whoever had a fire going? More than likely it was the shooting that went on all afternoon.

I turned as I reached the driveway. Now I was facing towards the house. The moon hung in the sky above the roof like the star of Bethlehem.

 The shooting stopped. The birds were still talking in the trees, and the light was fading fast.

My pace picked up as I followed Uriah to the house. I have a piece of pumpkin pie left. I just hope my husband can see my name is written on it…

Picture from –
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Phases_of_the_Moon.png#filelinks