Before the snow began
Mid-day, as dark as early morning.
In the midst of the snow flurries the juncos arrived. Opening the front door in an attempt to zoom in on them sends them fluttering away. They bounce about, pecking in the gravel, sleek feathered, black capped.
On a cold sunny morning after a week of intermittent snow, freezing rain, fierce winds that left us overnight without power, I stepped off the back porch and found this tiny corpse. There seemed no damage such as a cat might inflict, only the tiny head twisted at a slight angle. My thought is that the bird was driven by a gust of wind to smack into the side of the house, perhaps hitting a sun-porch window and dropping to the ground below. I marveled at the beauty of the feathers, the patterning of white on black.
I carried the little thing to the edge of the south ravine, tossed it onto a snow-dusted heap of leaves.
A few mornings later Jim and I were sitting at our respective desks when I became aware of a repetitive tapping. I enquired of J. was he watching a video of some sort. We sat listening alertly and traced the sound to just outside J's west bedroom window.
I scooted downstairs and out the porch door in time to see a woodpecker bashing away at the wooden siding. This was a unique happening. We often see various woodpeckers and flickers or hear their distinctive drumming coming from the wooded ravines, but never one 'attacking' the house.
I wonder if the 'drummer' is the mate of the dead bird.
Cold clear days with snow on the ground are beautiful with sun-sparkles and patterns of blue shadows.
My calendar notations record that I have walked on only 7 of January's 18 days.
I pull on boots to scurry out with kitchen scraps that are tossed under a tree behind the workshop. I hope that birds, or even the lurking possum, perhaps the grey squirrels, find some bits of nourishment in our crusts and veg parings.
Dealing with the cat litter boxes in slippery weather takes a bit more careful plodding down the slope to the edge of the south ravine. I note the branches and twigs downed in the wind, pick my way around patches of ice, glad to return to the warmth of the house.
Snow cleared by deer to find patches of grass.
On days when the wind is less bitter and the sun shines, I bundle up and trudge around the meadow loop or out to the mailbox on the road. I notice the tracks of the barn cats, Willis and Sally, and the lurking feral, Herman. A possum has dragged its ratty tail through the snow; there are the distinctive marks where a rabbit has bounded along the slope beneath the big oak.
Less welcomed are the paw prints indicating that dogs on the loose have barged through the dooryard again.
On January 9 the sun shone although the daytime temp didn't rise above the freezing mark. Walking up the slope of the east meadow I was companioned by a flutter of birds: bluebirds, sparrows, several small greyish birds who moved through low branches too quickly for me to identify them. A cardinal flashed through the hedgerow, a robin perched in the twisted branches of an oak long enough for me to focus a zoom shot with my old camera.
Whether the days are cold--or colder, dark or cheerfully sunny, there are the quotidian tasks of housekeeping and simple meals, laundry that in this weather is mostly finished in the dryer rather than pegged out to freeze on the back porch lines.
Observations, words, phrases, tumble through my mind but fail to be committed to screen or paper.
I read until my vision blurs; Cousin Pat and I have reviewed several of the stories in our shared French Canadian ancestry.
Two large quilt tops were finished and handed over to Janet who does most of my machine quilting. Binding on the one for grandson D. and delivered to him; the one for his special lady, K. picked up on Thursday and awaiting the formidable task of binding. A finish--finally-on the Rail Fence quilt that was begun during the winter of Covid seclusion. I attempted the 'quilt-as-you-go' process on that one, put it away in discouragement, brought it out with a determination to finish. Not a totally satisfactory production but the thing is on my bed. Perhaps the best compliment is to say it is colorful!
So, more than halfway through the month.
Daylight is lengthening, but we are braced for predicted severe cold during the coming week.
The pantry is well-stocked, the woodshed likewise.
Should we need to venture out we have warm clothes, stout boots, reliable vehicles.
I have three sewing projects underway, two new books.
Springtime when it arrives will be welcome, but I'm reminded of my Mother's admonition not to 'wish away' life pining for the future rather than making the best of the present!
A rather blurry photo of the Rail Fence quilt--I suspect I deleted the better one.
