A big tom in full display was showing off his tail-feathers and strut to two skittish hens. Wondering if I could talk turkey, I rolled down the window, snapped some photos and gobbled. Tom gobbled back so forcibly his red wattles jiggled.
A gobble can be heard up to a mile away. I've yet to see turkeys at the pond but they do roost in the trees across HWY 95. I hear them at dawn before they drop like ripe fruit from laden branches.
|Cold, Wet & Gray|
On I drive. Some things are better than birds.
June 14 Early Morning Pond Report:
Huddling in Todd's jacket, I sit on the south porch in fuzzy socks with both hands wrapped around my coffee mug. It's a new roast of beans from Montana, Flathead Cherries.
|A Day for Hunkering Down|
|Birthday Cake Roses|
As the horses hunker down in the southeast pasture, I turn to Habakkuk 3:17-18:
|Profusion of Buds|
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.
It may be dreary, but true joy is not dependent upon my fickle state of mind, the absence of birds or the germination of my garden. I thank God today for this paradise, for these green pastures and quiet waters. Clouds and cold matter not.
|Horse & Fairy Ring|
The larger rose bush I had trimmed in April is bursting with a profusion of red-wine buds. One has even started to open. This was not here three days ago. The roses promise to be stunning.
|Birds & Beast|
It is okay, not knowing.
June 14 Evening Pond Report:
No osprey. No geese. No Blue Heron. But the mergansers and wigeon couple are still on Elmira Pond. Tree swallows pound the pond like mini ospreys, attacking an insect hatch. They leave behind fairy rings.
|Mama Duck & 4 Babies|
I scope the far shore of the pond and receive yet another surprise today. A mama duck. Ah, females are hard to define. While I'm not certain of her breed, I'm now certain of what is making the water arrows--her four little ducklings. Tiny, newly hatched ducklings.
|The Storm Moves On|
Snapper grazes close to the pond. Birds rest upon her back, hopefully eating flies. The flies can get bad here and be miserable for horses. These birds
have a moving roost, complete with meal service.
At last the sun has returned and it looks as if the storm may move on. Hard to say what is on the other side of the mountain. The dogs and I walk the back pasture and as we return I glance at the garden, talking to my transplants.
Green...I see green. In the southeast corner by the raspberries canes I planted mustard seeds. Tiny, tiny mustard seeds. If we just had the faith of a mustard seed we could move mountains...or grow gardens within their shadow.
And, my garden is growing in the old bog patch above Elmira Pond.