BEAUTY AFTER A WINTER STORM
Our recent storm in the Pacific Northwest was impressive. It kept us at home for more than a week.
Shoveling, stacking wood on the front porch, cooking, singing and playing music, reading good books, and talking with friends and family occupied Tom and Margaret's days while I warmed up under the woodstove, tired from investigating all the comings and goings of wildlife here along the creek.
In the night, and sometimes even during the day, I often hear the hooting of the owls and, in my dreams, I think I see them, too. In the morning, I often find new tracks in the snow. I am a curious creature so, of course, I search for the creatures who made them.
Two weeks ago, in the middle of the night, I was very frightened. A wild animal surprised me as I was making my midnight rounds. A fight ensued but, fortunately, Margaret and Tom jumped out of bed and came to my rescue when they heard my cries. In the dark, without any moonlight, it was difficult to see what exactly was chasing me but it looked very much like a young bobcat, not like my old friend Bob, the cat, but, rather, the wild kind. I bravely fought the intruder and, though I received a few scratches on my head, I was, otherwise, fine. As my Auntie Elise says, this is "The Wild Kingdom" down here on the creek. I guess I need to be more careful.
In my walks about the garden during the day, I can see Tom's artwork from a different perspective. Although the two feet of snow is slowly melting, I like to climb the mounds of snow in order to watch the birds at the feeders. I also creep along the paths Margaret creates for me so I can get to my favorite places under the shed and near the water. So many birds have come to the feeders and suet baskets - quail, juncos, twohees, sparrows, varied thrush, pine siskins, blue jays - they make my head spin as I watch them from my bed on the window ledge. A few mallards and wood ducks like to ride the small waves in the creek. The red-tailed hawk has made several meals of unsuspecting prey, a continuation of the cycle of life which unfolds on a daily basis here along the creek. Several deer have been seen walking the well-worn path across the creek to the pasture beyond the old, broken barbed-wire fence. On the first day of sunshine after nearly 10 days of clouds, snow and freezing rain, Margaret and Tom walked to town. Along the way, they noticed a lone doe resting in the snow on the hillside. Based upon her size and color, she seems to be the same doe I often see foraging in the woods behind our property.
