One time, driving my teenage children home from school, I thought I saw a small red fox, running across a field. "Look! A fox!" I cried. "Mom, it's a Walmart bag!" they chorused. Of course, it was a Walmart bag, my eyesight not as keen as I thought. And I was the driver!
I'm aware how easily my powers of observation may be shaped by my desires. So, when I climbed the hill road last Sunday and saw a shadowy, hulking shape where the road forks, my first thought was that some inconsiderate had left a pile of trash bags on the road.
There were some low hanging branches obscuring the details, but what I saw on the next step was two turkey hens bobbing around a handsome-ish Tom, whose whole tail was fully fanned, while he twirled like a figure in a music box. It was momentarily mesmerizing, a moment when I wished for my camera, only to realize it was hanging around my neck, but the turkeys had already seen me, and vanished into the pines.
When I was a young girl, I remember spending a lot of time staring, not particularly trying to make sense of anything I was seeing. I think that was a better way of looking.
Bee Yard Report:
Bill Pike showed up in the bee yard this week and opened up a bee hive to have a look. It's only March, but there were the honey bees, their back legs loaded like little golden drum sticks with yellow pollen. Where did they find it? Nothing is blooming here yet, only pussy willows. It's bee season, but I think they are still tapping the maples. Bill was happy to see the fresh activity in the hive, and happy to be back at his bee-keeping. He's spry and a few years past 80. He told me he'll keep bees as long as he can walk. In that case, it looks like he'll be at it for a good while yet.
Watercress is filling up the spring! So nutritious, so peppery, my spring tonic.
And, one last picture, seldom seen on this blog, my husband, Daniel, who planted our woods.