The river is high. Moss covers the bare maples, upon the bark of which sprouts the new growth of ferns. Near the ferry crossing, perched high in the bright sun atop a dead cottonwood, are two bald eagles. Beside us, a towhee spins a few notes, as if trying to catch our attention, while a crested blue jay calls out, No! Look over here! Everything is right. Perfect. Such is […]
If our yard weren’t overwhelmed by the neighbor’s fir trees, and used as a playground for squirrels, raccoons, skunks, opossums, and owls, I wouldn’t mind at all having goats and chickens again. But this is not to be. We do have ants, though, which invade the house each winter; we have flickers and crows, juncos, sparrows, scrub-jays, finches, towhees, robins, wrens, and red-tailed hawks; and only a few days ago, […]
William Michaelian 