Midwinter Dreams

Well, I’m back, after what Shari and I have calculated was a 4 month tour through the foggy climes of cellulitis and septus. Two dark places I don’t want to revisit. I gradually gained full awareness during the last 6 weeks of hospitalization. The rest is lost in the cracks between August and December. And better so, from what I’m told.

So eat your heart out Rip van Winkle, I’m back. Back to address more bloggish issues…

To wit; a hawk flew through our front yard today. Warp speed. Shari saw a mole frolicking out there in the sparse grass yesterday. The hawk has no doubt been distracted by that. That and the fact that it knows there are more moles gestating out there in the subsurface darkness.

Every few years an invasion of fat, juicy grubs takes place in our little sub-terranian world. The moles gorge on them. In the process, they create a network of underground tunnels that renders our yard into a soft, mattress like surface. Weird. But then, “What, me, worry?” I don’t go out there anyway.

Alas. we’re now in the throes of mid-winter gloom. That limbo world that offers little variety save shifts in humidity and values of gray. OK, An occasional sunny or snowy day. Anyway, it’s that time of year when one begins to yen more and more for Spring and her verdant wardrobe of greens and golds. New plants, new animals.– In our pond, new fish. Just born into a new and hostile world, Fingerlings that will soon become the main course on their parents’ menu. Many a fish child doesn’t make it through the first day. Burial at sea? Or the less ceremonial conversion of fish to fish poop. You decide. Tough life out there in the grim world of the new born fingerling. New birds break the confines of the egg and leave their parents with an empty nest. New fawns test their shaky legs. Squirrels run in erratic circles, digging wildly in the soil. No doubt looking for the acorns they buried last October. Memory fades. I can relate. I’ve lost a few acorns over the years myself.