Big moonKilldeers lament across the heifer pasture, still snow, still snow, still snow. I want to tell them to come down on the lawn. Every footstep there crushes the rotten snow like a stomping Sasquatch and leaves a new bit of open ground behind.
The lawn at sunsetThere are plenty of footsteps too. Cabin fever cure here I come. I am out making footsteps every chance I get.
The river thrusts itself east and south, bank to bank and bulging, crammed with authority granted by thousands of streams and rivulets, swollen far beyond capacity by a little rain and a lot of dying snow. Black birds, cardinals, grackles, geese, geese, geese, from before dawn to after dark, swirling, rising and falling, screaming to be heard over one another. And robins shuttling everywhere, busy, busy.
All the culverts along the highways are still chock full of ice and snow so there is road flooding everywhere. Just west of the farm a huge whirlpool churns busily over a clogged drain. I swear it would suck down a car if you drove in there. So we don't.
The boss and I undertake to get some calf medicine and shavings for their little beds and inflations for the milking machines. The things we see, the things we see.
Wouldn't you think at this budget-busting laying off of everybody season that the guys moving little teeny tiny crumbles of ice that is going to melt anyhow, would not have a pay loader and a bunch of trucks and a large crew of workers out doing a job that a farm kid with a shovel could cover in an hour? Or even better, it was almost sixty...the stuff woulda been gone by morning. And they wonder......why we wonder.....
Come almost-night a moon with a big reputation rises over the horse pasture. It doesn't look that big. Maybe tomorrow when it is full.....
Just as I have had enough out on the lawn as the sun is setting time thousands of geese fly over, yodeling the wishes of their hearts across the sky.
All during our trip I looked in vain for snow geese. Now this morning as I edit the photos from last night I find that the gigantic flock that stretches so far is in fact a flock of snows. Cool
See, they really are snows
See, they really are snows
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12 comments:
What a beautiful meditation on snow-melting spring! Thanks for this.
What a great post 3C!
Love the words, love the pics.
Great post! Such word describing! You are a wordsmith!
"thousands of geese fly over, yodeling the wishes of their hearts across the sky"
That's so poetic - I envy your gift with words.
I have to agree like always, you have a great way with words.
I agree with JB you ARE the BEST of wordsmiths! The pic's are wonderful too!
Two more weeks to grass cutting? Did mine this afternoon, but it is a swamp out there.
wv-surtime, and it is "sure time"
WW, thank you for your kind words
FC, thank you very much. It was a glorious day and long awaited!
JB, coming from a great story teller like you that means a lot. Thank you very much
Rev. Paul thank you. You do just fine with words yourself.
Lisa, thank you very much! Hope you are having a decent weekend.
Linda, once again, coming from you that is quite a complement and I thank you very, very much. It was just one of those days that you couldn't help but notice.
Earl, I wish! I can not wait for grass, but it will probably be a while. The cows want grass too. Along about this time of year they get a little seedy, the feed is good and all but they are just needing that "Doctor Green" out in the pasture. Hoping hard for an early spring.
Well done; beautiful pictures and beautiful prose.
Did you notice the symbol in the sky next to the moon?
Two planes headed to different parts of our planet cross paths, and in so doing seem to bless the coming spring.
Water vapor from burning hot engines create a promise and a smile....
Love this. MOM
Thank you so much Keith! I did notice...every now and then planes cross just there in the sky and leave a mark like that. I like to see it.
Mom, thank you so much! I love you!
Dang. Keith beat me to it!
Marianne. You must know what fine writing this is.
Those opening lines - Poetry. You bring us so much in your wry, sometimes rueful observations and then your charming, heart-swelling reports on nature's turnings around your neck of the woods.
You capture it all. No fuss, just strong- voiced and clear-eyed reports from your view amidst those wonderful hills.
Just lovely.
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