Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
That's how my footfalls sound in the snow. A combination of crunch and squeak. When the temperature reads -7 degrees, snow squeaks and crunches.
I stop and listen.
There is a small whisper of a rattle above me in an old hickory tree. The brown leaves vibrate in the 'light' breeze. I turn my head. This winter breeze makes my eyes water.
It is cold.
A leaf falls and skitters over the snow until it is stuck in a gooseberry bush. It shudders as if alive.
Morris follows in my footsteps. When I stop he puts his front paws on my coveralls. I pick him up. I can't tell if he is shaking from the cold or he is sensing something.
I look up and around scanning the woods above us. I can't see anything. Perhaps he is just cold and I shouldn't have brought him along.
I decide to cut the hike short.
Besides, hiking in knee deep snow with a jack russell on your hip [who likes to try to climb to your shoulder to observe] is tough.
The woods are quiet. Except for the sigh of the winter breeze there are few noises.
Far off in the distance I hear some crows.
Morris sees the mule trail and scrambles out of my arms and runs towards the house.
My goal today is the creek bottom. Morris may stay home.
I love to walk in the woods by my farm. The land borders the Des Moines River and there are high bluffs too. Eagles sleep in the tall trees at night. When they are settling in for the night, they make gentle noises. When you hear it you can't forget the sound.
ReplyDeleteWe are sisters in our love of the outdoors.
Grandma Jeanie...the woods are so wonderful aren't they?
ReplyDeleteI always seem drawn to the creek ... must be the water!
We have some awesome bluffs along the Mississippi!