You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
It’s pretty but also heavy, wet, dense — you much prefer the lighter, fluffy stuff when it comes to shoveling. Still, you can’t help but admire it as the sunlight starts strumming through the branches.
We’ve had several rounds of flurries before this, when some of the neighboring towns found their ground covered. Real snow, in my book, means digging out the driveway.
I pulled over to photograph some ducks on a pond, or so I thought. When I turned around, this is what I found.
Wild turkeys have made a remarkable comeback in New England. The other day, I had to stop behind a stopped car on the road. That’s when I saw the gobbler stroll off the pavement. There was even one in our yard, we’ve been told.
The amount of wildlife in our yard continually impresses me, especially compared to my childhood home. The abundance of squirrels, of course, and (yuck!) the winter rats we occasionally see but also skunks, opossums, the groundhog (woodchuck) can be added in, plus garden snakes and a rainbow of insects. We must be doing something right, or just be in the right location. (Once, a fox trotted atop my ladder stored over snow, right here in the city.)
A first: amid a throng of blue jays chasing a crow, a mockingbird: was its nest raided or threatened?
But remember, never mock a mockingbird. Like the one singing lustily from our neighbors’ when I’d drive in from work at midnight. They’re quite remarkable musicians.
~*~
The influence of the animal kingdom shapes my newest collection of poems, In a Heartbeat, on tap at Barometric Pressures.
