They say that Pauxatawny Phil, the groundhog up in New England, saw his shadow today. I doubt very seriously that the Possum Cough groundhog(s) saw anything resembling a shadow here. I suppose this means that we'll have an early spring. As for MeeMaw and me, we're enjoying the winter too much to think deeply about warmer weather.
You can see by looking at the south bird feeder how the snow has been blowing sideways.
And MeeMaw got a good shot of the cardinals frolicking at the west feeder, near their bird tree.
Speaking of the bird tree, here's a pleasant shot:
We were looking west, over the graveyard, just as the light was beginning to die. Gorgeous.
The field next to Ernie and Helen's house looked exactly like the ready-to-be-harvested cotton fields in the delta where I grew up.
And the Clinch Mountains were as mystical and portentious as usual.
The old Davidson place down in the valley looked very Yuletidey, complete with its own tree.
I was walking on the road when I met one of our neighbors. We stopped and chatted, and then she said, "Oh, look at the sunlight peeking through!" I wheeled around and got this shot:
Up in the woodlot, the fading light made the air glow an eerie lavender. It was one of the prettiest things I've seen in years. I looked up over my head, and the snow draped across the grape vines looked like this:
Facing west/northwest, I saw this scene. It looked like something out of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. I kept expecting Mr. Tomnus to show up.
At this point, I can't resist quoting Robert Frost's famous veiled poem about death, "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening" (1923):Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Our sleepy little gray farmhouse looked particularly inviting as I came down out of the woods. Knowing that MeeMaw was in the kitchen, making up a batch of Italian Wedding Soup made my step a little quicker and a little livelier.
Just as I left the woodlot, I spied this lone blackberry vine with one single diehard leaf on it. Perhaps the groundhog was right. At any rate, spring will come, as surely as God hung celestial bodies for signs and for seasons.
Rest well, loved ones.
Just as I left the woodlot, I spied this lone blackberry vine with one single diehard leaf on it. Perhaps the groundhog was right. At any rate, spring will come, as surely as God hung celestial bodies for signs and for seasons.
Rest well, loved ones.
