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Month: December 2014
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Swans Celebrating
It’s a brilliant end to the year, and the swans are celebrating already. I stopped by a flock on my way home from an errand today. There were hundreds in this flock, and I passed other flocks on my short errand. They are constantly talking, but about what? These are exuberant birds. If you play the audio below, you’ll get an idea what it’s like to observe them.
I feel very lucky to live where the swans visit every winter. With their long voyages, they must have plenty to talk about. One day we’ll be able to point our smart phones at them and get instantaneous translations of what they are saying. And we’ll be able to talk into our phones and out will come a stream of honks the swans will comprehend.
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The Beauty of Cold
Snow is dusting the surrounding hills. The morning grass is white with frost. King Richard’s crows carry a long ways on a bright, winter morning. The cold doesn’t deter the hens from laying eggs. Ruby is settled in a nest, getting ready to lay an egg. With daylight just three minutes longer than a week ago, the hens seem to sense that spring is coming. They are already laying more eggs.
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Woody 1999~2014
Often when a year ends and a new one begins, other than the dates on the calendar changing, there’s very little to mark the change. This year, for us, there are many endings and beginnings. Yesterday evening, marked another ending. Woody, our dear friend for fifteen years, passed away peacefully, lying comfortably between us on the couch.
He was always such a cheerful companion. He spent many hours in the evening, snuggled between my legs when I relaxed on the couch. It’s hard to imagine life without him. His health started to deteriorate this summer, and these last few weeks, he weakened so much, that we scheduled our veterinarian to come on Monday for a final farewell. But he went on his own, with our hands comforting him.
Woody was a great companion for his sister, Winnie, until she suddenly died nine years ago, and after that, he was Rusty’s best friend and playmate.
After saying our goodbyes, we wrapped him in one of his blankets, and let him spend the night on one of his favorite chairs by the wood stove. During the winter, he loved lying in front of the warm wood stove, or on the chair next to it. This morning we buried him in the garden, next to his sister. In a few months, his grave will be surrounded by beautiful flowers, and we’ll fondly remember our dear friend each time we walk by.
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Summer Skies in Winter
The skies yesterday were like mid summer, billowy white clouds against an azure sky. The swans were as happy as could be. I had to stop and listen to them. When they get together in groups, they have so much to talk about. Maybe if I spent a year with them, listening to them day and night, then maybe, I might understand what they are saying. Whatever it is, they can’t wrap up their conversation in a few minutes. It takes them hours to speak their minds.
Posture must have a lot of meaning. Sometimes they talk with their heads held high, other times they twist their neck downward and talk low to the ground. Then there’s the head bobbing thing they do. There’s so many subtle movements they make with their heads and necks, half of what a swan says, may be with their head and neck movements, not their trumpet calls.
And with swans flying in and out of the group, there’s always new company to tell the story all over again. In reality, the swans most likely fly from field to field looking for good things to eat. But, just maybe, the reason they fly from field to field is because they get bored with the conversation in one field, and fly off to mingle with another group, hoping to hear something more interesting.
It makes you wonder if swans ever get close to landing, but see some blowhard swan they can’t stand, and keep on flying to avoid having to listen that swan again.
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Winter’s Bug Buffet
MiAsa and her chicks are moving and scratching so fast, they are just a blur. It’s time to turn the compost and add more litter to it. In midwinter, a great feeding place for chickens is a compost pile when I turn it. It is full of worms and bugs. A compost pile is teeming with life. Manure and decaying plant matter provide a feast for bacteria and tiny organism, which provide a feast for earthworms and bugs, which provide a feast for the chickens.
When you closely examine a compost pile in midwinter, it’s amazing to see tiny winged insects teeming over the pile. Once the pile heats up, it provides a warm sanctuary for millions of creatures to flourish.
