Tag: trees

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

Categories
Nature Writing

I Took My Walk Looking Up Today~Or, I Missed Last Nights Party

It was nearly two in the afternoon, when took my walk.  The temperatures had risen today. It was close to 35 degrees.

 I stood out on the path in the middle of the lowest spot, along the drainage tile. I was surrounded by heavy snow that crunched with each step I took.  My heels sunk into the wet snow and my toes followed with a rubbery sound, similar to rubbing your fingers across the outside of blown up balloon.  

 I felt I was shrinking! An optical illusion as the trees towered above.  

The sky directly overhead was void of clouds.  

While the horizon itself, was painted with a smooth, dark grayish, blue color.  

Furrows of lighter colored clouds stretched upward from that darkness, and meandered in soft lines. They swirled upward, round and round, lighter and lighter until the clouds broke apart.  

Everything pulled together like a tassel at the top of a hat.

All that soft brightness reflected off the surrounding clouds, with a very pale washed out center of whitish blue.  

I felt as if I were spectator, sitting in a cozy chair in a planetarium.

Everywhere I looked, the clouds followed that spherical path, up and out.

Two flocks of geese approached from the northwest and  flew over my house.   The first group, a wedge, flew in a ‘V’ formation.  The second flock flew a straight line, a skein, like a tail of a kite trailing last.

 I watched the geese turn and head southeast.  Both groups merged into the wedge, one wide ‘V’ formation. They flew in a wide circle.   I watched them fly directly towards the east, then turn sharply and head back north.  All the while honking and talking like a group of teenage girls.

I moved on up the path. I dragged my feet through the snow, so I wouldn’t slip. I noticed I wasn’t the only one who walked this way in the past twenty-four hours.

The white snow was marred by multiple foot prints, coyotes, opossums, rats, rabbits, deer and raccoons. 

Mother Nature must have had a big party last night.

Corn cobs were scattered under the trees and stripped of their hard kernels. The animal that ate that corn was very patient. The hull was peeled and eaten.  Remnants scattered around like peanut shells.

Off in the distance I could hear the motorized high pitch whine of a snowmobile.  It rose in pitch, lowered then rose up again, over and over. I couldn’t see the vehicle. But, it sounded like someone was having fun as they raced in the fields.

Heavier clouds were moving in, I called for my dog and we headed back home..

Picture From:
http://wdfw.wa.gov/wlm/living/canada_geese.htm#info
(Photo by Russell Link.)
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

How Many Rocks Can My Pockets Hold?~

Written on December 7th, 2009~

 Earlier this morning when I took my dog out for a walk, the air was a mist of grey fog. The sun was a haze in the early morning sky. When I first glanced up, I thought the Sun was the Moon, defused in the grey mist and entangle in the dense cloud cover. My breath and the fog were inseparable.  

It had snowed during the night. Everything was covered in white. Each branch was coated, in a perfect holiday photo shoot. The ground was frozen so even the driveway was paved white.

I stayed near the house, and planned on walking out back later in the day.

It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon by the time I decided to take a walk. The snow was no longer coating the trees. Only lines of snow zigzagged across the lawn   

Uriah took off in the trees, angrily barking.  He reappeared in front of me, only to follow the tracks of a grey squirrel. Whose residence is in the trees at the beginning of the path.

 The air was cold yet tolerable. I had forgotten my gloves back by the house and my fingers weren’t freezing, so I was happy. I started walking to the right, where the ground moves upward on a slight incline. Directly in the center of the path a small, three inch evergreen had taken root. I never saw it before.  I made a mental note to remember and check on it in spring.  If it really was growing on the path I’ll need to transplant it.

 I continued on my way. When I reached the far back and started to circle home, I stopped to admire the old farm house and its red barn, equally sized white Silos and smaller buildings all built up together like a castle, the surrounding grass and turned over fields, patterned shades of brown, yellow, green, and beige.  The sections were the last rain fell washed the dirt to a dark black.  White snow striped the empty corn fields.

I could see for miles…  

Faded green grass still stood out in the farmer’s air field. Along the air field, past forty acres of plowed fields, I watched Black Angus cows. They moved slowly into a fenced in field. 

Off to the northeast, I could see helicopter hovering in the direction of the express way.

Uriah started to bark, as  I walked  back, I kept calling  his name, and he kept answering by barking- not by appearing.

I reached the part of the path, that was directly across from where I saw the little evergreen, at the beginning of my walk.  I stopped and poked the dirt with my ski pole, it gave way. I called to Uriah each call I stabbed the pole at the dirt, I hit a rock!

Curiosity got the better of me.  I stood there digging out this little rock, which lay just under the dirt and field grass. It was a slight tipsy square flat rock, to my eye it was nearly perfect. With the thought of crafting something, maybe checkers.  I slipped it into my pocket as Uriah barked again.

At that point I looked down, and found another little evergreen growing on the path.

The grass all around me had given up trying to reach for the sky and laid level with the ground, sleeping until spring.   I walked back a few feet searching for more of the little saplings. I found six more going in the center of the path.

Uriah’s barking became more agitated; I started walking back towards home. Every few feet I called him and he answered back, I felt like I was playing ‘Marco Polo’ with him.

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

My One Month Blog Anniversary ~ Or Is That Called An ‘Blogiversary?’

December 2nd, 2009. I have had this Blog up one month, today. And I enjoyed writing every post. There aren’t any free downloads to commemorate the occasion, just this new Blog post. Enjoy! I love to hear your comments, or just say, ‘Hi,’ as you pass through.

Be careful don’t step in a muskrat hole! 

Today may be overcast and slightly cooler than yesterday, with the temperatures in the forties.  For some reason it just doesn’t feel cold to me.

As I walked around the back path, I stopped and listened to the small, black and grey, birds they fluttered and chirped angrily at me in the trees. These little guys jump around so fast and keep inside the tree branches it is hard to see specific markings. I will keep guess and searching for their names. Chickadee, maybe, they are in the order of Passeriformes.

Uriah kept his nose to the ground pointing out each new muskrat hole and scat droppings. I called to him and he sat at my side.

I closed my eyes and listened to the wind. That’s when I realized the breeze was moving in low from the Northwest, but along the ground. My coat fluttered and I felt the gentle breeze on my chin, and that’s where it stopped. The low grass rustled, but not the taller, dried beige tops of the Goldenrod. This wind was skimming the ground, sneaking around the base of the trees, chasing pieces of corn husks, and an odd leaf or two.

Sounds were muffled; I opened my eyes and looked up at the grey overcast sky. Today’s cloud cover  pulled in a heavy, thick silence, that precedes a storm, rain or snow.

I heard a motorized buzzing, I looked up and around. From the east, a small helicopter flew towards me, high above the plowed fields.  I watched as it approached, and passed overhead quickly.

When I looked down Uriah was gone. Little bugger! I couldn’t hear him nosing around anywhere and I wasn’t in the mood to start calling for him. I decided to continue on with my walk, he will find me this time.

I took my time walking back and as I hoped, Uriah was nervously waiting for me at the edge of the path. He wiggled into my leg to have his head patted, and nuzzled my coat pocket for a treat.

“Silly dog! Why should I give you a treat when you run off?”

My half hearted attempt at scolding him didn’t work; he just stared at me smiling. I gave him a Liver Snap biscuit.

Uriah tried to get me to look inside a large animals burrow by digging around it and crying.  Stupidly I approached, the subtle smell of a skunk wafted around me, I stopped, then slowly backed away and whistled for him to follow.   

 I walked along the tree line, as we headed back to the house. I saw the old pair of jeans that had been in Uriah’s kennel.  I mentioned them here:  http://gerardinebaugh.wordpress.com/?s=Magical+Gnomes.

They were bunched up against the base of a tree, nearly fifty feet inside the tree line.  I wondered, if  it was the coyotes who moved them around.

 Entering the backyard, we were greeted with the excited clicking of the Northern Cardinal; I saw four males, bright red, hopping from branch to branch in the old apple tree. More answered from deeper in the trees. Only one Sparrow showed his feathered features. I only saw him because I tried to look around the base of the apple tree for the female Cardinals. 

The air was getting heavier, and the cloud cover thickened almost instantly.  Rain is coming…

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