Winter travels here,
I stand watching – they are gone
Finding no warmth here.
The road to some where
Lit by the stars reflections
Lost in the clouds
Starlings swirl over head
Looking for a nightly roost.
I head home to you.
Morning came early as it usually does. Dog kisses wet on my nose tempered with small whimpers. The sky is dark – sun rise is 2 hours away. Winter solstice has passed, but the sun moves in stately progress toward its northern edge.
Clothing assembled and finally on, coffee gone, coat, hat and gloves, flash light, where is the leash – red flasher on – “Hold still, it was your idea to go for a walk this early,” I grumble, halter and leash in my hands. We are soon out the door and moving down the driveway. It is too warm for the day after Christmas – the gloves stay in my pockets and coat unzipped. Our neighborhood is quiet – no wind, few cars, lights shine out of the windows in an occasional house. Holiday lights are sleeping off the ecstasy of the last few days. Twenty minutes and a mile later we are now home again.
The sun hides behind the grey rolling clouds this morning. A sulky morning, given to thoughts of winter to come, chores to complete. Work beckons, I head to the office to spend a long day answering phone calls, hopefully someone will call and talk to me. It is a morning to travel back roads and I drive south in Pinnacle Road. It is a road of churches – a church of the world, a Hindu temple, a Presbyterian one, a Korean one. My church, I find is an open field, edged by rough trees and a Norther Harrier (Circus cyanide) soaring through the trees or a view of the office pond filled with Canada Geese (Branta canadensis) and Snow Geese (Chen caerulescens). They gather, launch from the pond in great goose discourse. I smile, the day awaits!
As I stepped out of my car this morning, the sound of Canada Geese surrounded me. There were hundreds sitting in the grey water of the pond. They have gathered, waiting for the right time to leave. To leave for warmer temperatures, for sunnier skies. A few will stay, but now – the sound of fall is the honking and squabbling of Canada Geese.
The sound of winter is the cold rush of the north-west wind as it slips under my scarves and hat. It is the sound of my teeth chattering in the pre-sunrise dark and the crunch of too cold snow.
Spring is the sound of water dripping as ice cycles melt from the roof and the louder cracks of ice blocks breaking along the river’s edge.It is the sound of song birds returning from the south and chattering to their neighbors among the budding trees.
Each season has its own sound and many of them. These are a few of my favorite things . What do you hear?
Yellow leaf poplars stand as signals,
Marking the end of warm and sunny days.
Canada Geese congregate on local ponds,
forging bonds that last all winter long.
Flights of migrating birds wing past our eyes,
heading south for warmer days.
White-tailed deer in their mindless frolic
ignore signs and end
lifeless on gravel paths that mark the edge of busy highways.