Lovely weather for a walk this evening (Thursday) - cool, sunny, just a hint of a breeze. The sun was burning up the western horizon while a sliver of moon looked on. Out walking - and thinking - I saw....
One red-tail hawk exploded from the top of a tall sycamore tree, a flash of white and red, his shrill kree! slicing the air like the wail of a bereaved lover.
Two owls, one hidden in the western treeline of the back hayfield, one in the eastern treeline. Their loud calls like the musical boom of timpani, back and forth. Hoo-ooo-OOO!
Three sleeping sisters. Three great ridges, tall hills, running parallel like giant fingers. Up (breathe!), down, up (breathe!), down, up (breathe!), down. Time to turn for home!
Four white-tail deer. Motionless, heads high, ears alert. A flash, a leap, and they were gone, their dusty brown coats disappearing among the trees.
Five shiny black crows. Stately gentlemen, offended at being disturbed, rose from the brittle grass and complained all the way to the nearest tree top.
Six wood ducks, impossibly fast, whirring overhead enroute to the old pond.
Twelve glossy black cows, smelling of earth and grass and fresh air. Rip, munch, crunch, grazing in the pasture.
Fifty-three Canada geese, a living, trumpeting Vee painted against the fading sky.
Brown leaves crunched underfoot. I wondered, Where do the fish go, and the snakes, when drought burns up the fields and licks the creekbeds dry as Egypt?
Back at the barn, three red horses nickered Hello and invited me to stop and scratch their ears. Three timid barn kitties bolted for cover, peeking from evening shadows as I passed by.
Home at last, one fat, furry tabby trotted up and escorted me down the driveway to the house.
1 month ago