3.10.14 If you turn your face now into the bright light, it is finally warm

A  few days ago it was still frozen, cold, the snows and ice unyielding, as all of wildlife holds its breath for spring. Oh, the light was changing. We all knew that, the feel in the air different, early morning out on the still covered ground.

The river frozen and snow covered, with hardly a melted area. The skies and land so blue and white, brazen in the contrast.

Now the pairing up and chasing of birds is ubiquitous, everyone carousing and saying hi and singing away with that spring feeling in the song. Daily the birdsong shifts, as more and more return from their winter’s rest.

As the trees above us turn a brilliant red, with the promise of buds someday soon blossoming into those tiny tree bouquets.

Still so many wooded paths are too deep, too damp now, somewhat impassable unless you are more determined. Out back, the neighbors and their offspring, babies in tow, go wandering across the fields on snowshoes in the late afternoon light, delighting in the day. 

Down by the Eagle Sanctuary, the snowdrifts are deep, as the large birds sweep by, magnificent huge wings, to find their sustenance for the day.

So still we go down to the farm road by the river, to walk Dante along the flat stretch of land that feels like forever. The small clutch of houses at the far end, and the sleeping farmer’s fields beneath the heavy snows.

 Yesterday I saw an enormous bird that to my mind, so grey and almost silver, must have been a Great Blue Heron. Disturbed by our quiet walk, and the gallivanting pup, they took flight, as I watched the large soft blue wings. They took up upon a high branch of a magnificent Maple, farther down the fields.

As the billowing clouds passed by overhead, and for the first time there came the March gusts of wind, sending the trees lining the river swaying in the early morning sun.

 If you turn your face now into the bright light, it is finally warm, and you can just feel the nourishment, like any sunflower that ardently follows our star’s motion across the skies.