Well, winter is surely here and in the next few hours we can expect nearly a foot of new snow followed by another round of bone chilling cold. Now doesn't that sound like fun?
A couple years ago I bought a new snow blower so I can get out to the main road once in a while. Now it sits rusting in the shed, hardly ever being asked to work for me. Now that will all change. I hope it's up to the task.
Have you ever wondered about all of those pretty little birds that come in by the hundreds? They feed on the sunflower seeds and other goodies my wife gives them. If for some reason, I'm not on schedule in the morning, they sit on the feeder, just looking through the window at me as if to say "Move it Grampa. We're hungry."
So I stumble to the shed and scoop up some seeds for the poor little critters. They used to fly away when I came outside, but now they just sit there waiting impatiently.
I have visions of those poor critters starving in the cold, but lately that vision has changed. Now I see them all fattened up like a Christmas Turkey, far too fat to fly. As I leave to go back into the shed, I turn and look over my shoulder.
The critters are fluttering in from everywhere. A big raven flys over and little birdies using parachutes leap from their backs heading for the feeders. Over by the barn, a herd of pine siskins trudge silently on small snowshoes, again, far too fat to fly.
By now you're think that maybe I should come to town more often. I know. The critters have control of me and the only thing that will save me is open water and green grass. This happens nearly every winter, but this one seems a bit worse than usual.
So until the weather changes and the snowbanks start to melt, I will continue to be plagued by those flying friends of mine. The cost is minimal and the return on my investment is the sound of happy little birdies tweeting joyfully in the trees.
I think I'll go take an aspirin. Happy New Year my friends.
So from the land of tall pines and tall tales, I wish you well.
Ron
p.s. If you know of any friends that may enjoy this newsletter, send me their e-mail address.
Author of "The River Calls" and "A River of Seasons"
www.ronshepherd.com