Portents of events to come

A bit ago the suet feeder was visited by a pileated woodpecker. Most winters we’ve enjoyed such  an occurrence more often than this one. Yesterday we think we caught a sunset glimpse of a cardinal. We couldn’t be sure if it was a male or female but the silhouette was pretty unmistakable. We’ve concluded that cardinals really don’t approve of our fancy “squirrel-proof” feeder even though it has a  “cardinal ring.”

pileated woodpecker at suet feeder

Photo by J. Harrington

So far this winter we’ve seen neither deer nor turkeys in the fields behind the house. Something has prompted a change in the range and patterns of both, but we’re clueless as to what. Spring turkey season this year opens on  April 13 and licenses go on sale March 1. If we don’t see any of the big birds between now and March, we may decide to pass on the season this year. Or, we may decide to get a license anyhow, if there’s the unlikely chance that we’ll enjoy an early and warm spring season. Speculating should help to keep us entertained for the next couple of months. Since the current temperature has just recently climbed above zero, spring and turkey hunts are all but a fantasy for now.

early April tom turkey

Photo by J. Harrington

And, as if a COVID pandemic and climate breakdown weren’t enough, we moments ago saw a report that

Tax Season Opens Jan. 24. Treasury Says Be Ready for Frustration

I don’t remember a tax season that didn’t involve at least one or another frustration, but this year may be worse? Swell! Remember, it’s probably been the Republicans that have insisted on underfunding the IRS and have opposed mandates necessary to get the pandemic under control. Don’t blame a screwed up tax season on the Democrats when you enter a voting booth next November. You are planning on voting, aren’t you? Voting Blue in 2022? I hope so. Remember, Blue is, if nothing else, the least worst alternative.

The Winter Bird

Jones Very - 1813-1880

Thou sing’st alone on the bare wintry bough,
As if Spring with its leaves were around thee now; 
And its voice that was heard in the laughing rill,
And the breeze as it whispered o’er meadow and hill,
Still fell on thine ear, as it murmured along 
To join the sweet tide of thine own gushing song.
Sing on—though its sweetness was lost on the blast,
And the storm has not heeded thy song as it passed, 
Yet its music awoke in a heart that was near,
A thought whose remembrance will ever prove dear;
Though the brook may be frozen, though silent its voice,
And the gales through the meadows no longer rejoice,
Still I felt, as my ear caught thy glad note of glee,
That my heart in life’s winter might carol like thee.

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