In just ten minutes the sun will go down...why now do they come?
I am standing near the "river" portion of the water feature that I keep running all winter, and waiting. My boots have sunken into the new fluffy snow and I can still see my breath even though the light is fading. Hands in the pockets of my most "comfy" jeans, I can easily be mistaken for a tree stump in my khaki colored overcoat. I am however wearing a bright red Wauwatosa East baseball cap; an interesting choice of color for stealth, but I don't mind. My ears, followed by my gaze, are fixated on the predictable nightly spectacle of wonder. "You have to be still Birdstud," my brain reminds me. Suddenly, preceded by that familiar whistling sound, one almost collides with the back of my head before landing beyond on the narrow river bank. Two, then three more suddenly arrive in a nearly silent fluttering of wings and more apparent whistles. Their buckskin bodies mostly blending with the landscape near the pond. One by one, all t
en of these gentle, timid, creatures take their turns at the waterfall and river way, quenching a particular thirst. It all happens in a matter of 5 minutes and then they leave; exploding in a flurry of feathers and sound, clumsily in all directions. Where they go from here is unknown to me, but I look after them counting the blessing of their brief choreographed visit...wondering.
I am standing near the "river" portion of the water feature that I keep running all winter, and waiting. My boots have sunken into the new fluffy snow and I can still see my breath even though the light is fading. Hands in the pockets of my most "comfy" jeans, I can easily be mistaken for a tree stump in my khaki colored overcoat. I am however wearing a bright red Wauwatosa East baseball cap; an interesting choice of color for stealth, but I don't mind. My ears, followed by my gaze, are fixated on the predictable nightly spectacle of wonder. "You have to be still Birdstud," my brain reminds me. Suddenly, preceded by that familiar whistling sound, one almost collides with the back of my head before landing beyond on the narrow river bank. Two, then three more suddenly arrive in a nearly silent fluttering of wings and more apparent whistles. Their buckskin bodies mostly blending with the landscape near the pond. One by one, all t
en of these gentle, timid, creatures take their turns at the waterfall and river way, quenching a particular thirst. It all happens in a matter of 5 minutes and then they leave; exploding in a flurry of feathers and sound, clumsily in all directions. Where they go from here is unknown to me, but I look after them counting the blessing of their brief choreographed visit...wondering.
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