A squirrel in the treetops pauses before it leaps, gazing, and loses its nerve. Below, bars of sunlight stretch across the pale blue ground.
2018
Saturday January 06, 2018
Another brutally cold morning. From somewhere under the house where the heating ducts run, the trilling of a Carolina wren.
Friday January 05, 2018
0℉ with a wind. Over the creaks and moans of the trees, I can just make out the muffled cries of gray squirrels engaged in courtship.
Thursday January 04, 2018
Snow in the air, and on the ground, a flock of snowbirds: hopping through the deer-scraped patches, dropping down to the stream to drink.
Wednesday January 03, 2018
Deer came in the night and dug up half the yard to get at the evergreen myrtle. Sun pours down from a cloudless sky. A song sparrow sings.
Tuesday January 02, 2018
Another frigid morning. Clouds thin and wispy as frayed silk drift off, and the trees’ long shadows turn sharper and darker blue.
Monday January 01, 2018
Trees and dead weeds alike have grown a fine fur of hoarfrost. There’s no human noise for nearly ten minutes. Then a distant military jet.