Respite, despite ...

This was a heartening and fun morning following a beautiful sunset yesterday. First, we saw the sun rise, a rare occurrence these days. Second, we had several hours worth of blue skies and sunshine. Gone now, of course. Third, the two wild turkey hens that have been visiting the back yard searching for feeder droppings returned. Fourth, one of the hens flew up to and landed on the deck. [I didn’t see that.] Fifth, Harry the beagle noticed a wild turkey on his deck and scampered across the living and dining rooms toward the walkout door. An oncoming beagle prompted the turkey to fly away across the yard. [I did see that.] Harry seemed satisfied with the job he had done and settled down instead of running into the glass door.

January sunrise

Photo by J. Harrington

The best part of all of that was experiencing SUNSHINE! The second best part was the look on Harry’s face as the turkey flew off the deck.

Most of January is gone and I’ve done little but start to organize the tax filing info and complain about cloudy, cold, snowy days. No playing with the fly fishing toys; nor trying to tie one of the flies from the kit we bought a year, or was it two, ago. We hereby publicly announce that, after the envelope of materials has been delivered to the tax preparer [by mid-February we hope] we will promptly clear a desk, start tying a fly, and report back here by the end of February any progress. This will be a Valentine’s Day present to prove we love ourself at least sometimes. It is also a motivation to help us endure the upcoming return of single digit high temperatures later this week and at least into next. Sigh!

Sounds of the Winter

Walt Whitman - 1819-1892

Sounds of the winter too,
Sunshine upon the mountains—many a distant strain
From cheery railroad train—from nearer field, barn, house
The whispering air—even the mute crops, garner’d apples, corn,
Children’s and women’s tones—rhythm of many a farmer and of flail,
And old man’s garrulous lips among the rest, Think not we give out yet,
Forth from these snowy hairs we keep up yet the lilt.

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