IMG_0602_2Hallelujah- our Wood duck has survived the latest stretch of severity! He arrived at sunset just, with a mallard pair, to make my heart soar. After a small meal and rest on the ice, and with his familiar squeak, off they flew again. It has been days since I’ve seen him and I feared the worst, but somehow he has managed. I have read of geese and ducks and even swans found dead in these past four weeks. How he missed his migration south I can never know, nor how he found his way here to my door. He is part of my life now.

It is a serious business this month of January. It is all anyone talks about. It tests us, though as Yankees, through and through, winter’s depth informs the soul, doesn’t it.

One of winter’s gifts of course is reading by the fire, ah…though the books I have chosen of late are as serious as the weather. Perhaps I should not be reading about climate change or endangered species. The weather has set the mood. I do believe climate change is an irrefutable fact and it will be our undoing.

Finally, a little rant. To my disbelieving eyes I read a poem this week that “won” first prize in a local periodical. The author, a woman of a certain age, lately come to the pen, was awarded thus for having scavenged, ravaged, and completely plagiarized (all the while entirely missing the point of) Annie Dillard’s most famous essay on weasels- heaven forbid! Here is an antidote-

Now close the windows and hush all the fields:

If the trees must, let them silently toss;

No bird is singing now, and if there is,

Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,

It will be long ere the earliest bird:

So close the windows and not hear the wind,

But see all wind-stirred.

Now Close the Windows, Robert Frost