The
morning was chilly and windy, 28 degrees,
colder down the range.
The pup and I drove down down that hill, til the
river revealed itself, still frozen,
the ice thinner each coming day.
It's waters somewhat visible beneath the remaining
frozen, increasingly iridescent layers.
The sun was peeking over the range ; a Kestrel flew by, silently, with great
economy.
Out in the fields there are now early
spring ponds, that melt in the warmth of the day, and freeze once again at
night.
Reflections of feathered wing-like clouds
skim across the surface and too, far above.
As the wind takes you and keeps you, and
brings about new avian arrivals each day, greeting the frozen landscape, just
knowing the growth will begin soon.
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