Snow, Hawks, Owls, Sunrise
I live way out in the sticks of Oregon, in an ancient house that looks out over the fruit-growing Hood River Valley and up to Mt. Hood...this morning, hubby left early to snowboard, and I got up late, for me -- 6:00. It snowed about 5 inches last night and this morning, but it's stopped. I went out to get some wood, and of course was swept up by that just-had-a-cup-of-coffee-and-isn't-the-snow-beautiful energy, so decided to shovel, etc. I shoveled snow from the deck (isn't it easier when it's still fluffy and not yet slightly melty?! How can it weigh less? But it does...), and made a path from the house to the woodshed. I piled all the different firemaking sizes of wood in the wood bag, in reverse order -- two pieces of the old oak that was knocked down by a bulldozer last year, for when the fire gets going. Then some medium cherry wood sticks, from the orchard we helped our landlord take out last year. Smaller ones, and then llittle strips of fir for kindling that hopefully will catch from last night's coals.
I played what hubby calls "Birdie Claus," and put out 2 old rattly metal pans of birdseed. (The cat would like to play Kitty Claws to the birds, but she's snoring under the bed). Then I walked around the yard, and knocked the snow off the limbs of the fir trees. You can almost hear them say, "aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh" as they are relieved of their loads of snow.
The owl is going to sleep; I can hear him (Owliver, we named him, tho he might be a she) calling to the hawk and telling him to get up -- it's his mouse shift now. As I'm finishing walking around the yard, I see the hawk float down from somewhere, and take his post on the huge oak tree that looks over the small Hood River Gorge -- his mousing territory.
Everything is quiet quiet quiet. I can hear the birds just barely beginning to wake up. The sun is rising, but all I can see is a Maxfield Parrish-like pink mist beyond the snowy trees. I come in and battle the woodstove into a fire, and battle the pooch we're dogsitting for room by the stove to start the fire. Pour myself another cup of coffee, turn on Weekend Edition, and wait for energy to do something work-related. Sigh...maybe I'll just read by the fire.
Happy Sunday, Socks.
© copyright, 1998, Valya Coole