Some blessings of a thaw

Last night, after sunset but before full dark, we had two, possibly three, visitors in the back yard. Whitetails, substantial shadows on the snow, made their way to the pear tree and on toward the road. They were acting like food was what they were looking for. I doubt they found much. It was a poor year for acorns and the pumpkins were well covered by snow. We don’t want to attract crowds of deer because of CWD, so we won’t be feeding them, but, if the thaw we’re starting today doesn’t carry on for awhile, we may find a few brave deer looking for spillage from one of our bird feeders.

This morning, while driving to the Granddaughter’s so we can read some more of the Yule Tomte book, I saw in a field by the road a large flock of turkeys that looked almost black, later there was a deer wandering down the middle of a snow-packed township road, and later still a pheasant scooting into the roadside bushes. Looks like the break in our extended spell of bitter cold has local wildlife moving about instead of hunkered down. If my choice is between warmer but cloudy or sunny but bitter, I’ll go shopping for a SAD lamp.

Photo by J. Harrington

Mother Nature saved her biggest and best surprise for the drive home, as I was passing through Carlos Avery and crossing the Sunrise River, three swans flew across the marsh in front of me. I might have seen more swans to the north, but couldn’t be sure based on the glimpse I got. I know some swans overwinter on the St. Croix down near Hudson, and maybe some of them had come exploring. Our local marshes are, as far as I know, frozen solid so I wouldn’t expect swans to be hanging out around here except for brief periods. Maybe we’ll go exploring tomorrow. I’ve seen few things in nature more beautiful than swans flying below cloudy skies and over snow-covered marshes.

The Swan

by Mary Oliver

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air -
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music - like the rain pelting the trees - like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds -
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?

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