A slice of life on 10 acres in the woods. Thoughts on raising 4 sons, guiding 4 grandsons, keeping up a 35 year marriage, maintaining friendships, finding memories, and trying to follow God on the journey.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

I heard the strange tap dancing sound coming from outside. I went to the window gazed down on the deck below but saw nothing. Suddenly I realized the sound was coming from above me. I leaned my cheek close to the glass and looked up to see a line of feathered tails bobbing from the gutter above. I suppose the birds were lined up drinking from the stream of melting ice flowing into the gutters. It has been in the 20°s today but finally sunny after days of cold. I went for the camera but the birds were gone before I returned.

When the weather gets like this, with freezing rain and ice and dipping below 0° at night, I hunker down at home and stay put. Leaving the house only to carry in the logs for the fire and to the dog and the chickens.

The animals I see from my toasty shelter, unlike me, seem to be more active than usual. The birds frantically attack the feeders and one another for the prime feeding spots. The squirrels come looking for the peanuts that I put out on the deck last week. The raucous Blue Jays and the parade of bounding, leaping, and creeping squirrels have already consumed those leaving only the cast off shells to blow off onto the icey grass below. They do their acrobatic Olympics, trying their best to beat the designer of the squirrel-proof bird feeders I have hung outside the kitchen window.

A rabbit hops up to the fence of the chicken run. He must smell the grain within but he is locked out and moves on. I look out later as I wash dishes and see a flock of cardinals pecking at the scratch I threw out earlier for the chickens. The chickens are in their coop staying out of the wind but the Cardinals do not seem to notice it. I see a Robin and a male Buebird hopping from branch to branch of the Hackberry tree above the old playhouse gobbling up the dried berries that stubbornly still cling to the twigs. He is about a month early and I wonder what that means. An early Spring perhaps? He has come to scout out a good nest site for his mate who will come later but today he is focused on the fuel that will get him through this cold spell.

I settle back into my chair with a book I have nearly finished and feel grateful for my warm and peaceful abode.

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