It’s a beautiful fall morning
in my back yard. The temperature is more
sweater than coat weather. There’s a bit
of overcast that thins enough in places for the morning light to shine through
and illuminate the rich fall colors of leaves and fading flowers. Geese sailing across the sky in long,
undulating skeins bark and yip as they float over the yard, heading east, for
some reason this morning…perhaps that is where their favorite feeding grounds
are located this week.
My “new” yard is pleasant
enough. I do miss marking the day I hear
the first crane calls wafting over from Sauvie…
But there is plenty here in the outskirts of Eugene to satisfy my wild
soul. Geese of all shapes and sizes
abound around here in the winter…much to the chagrin of farmers( and
suburbanites who might like to enjoy a
poop-free walk in any of the local parks.)
And Finley Wildlife Refuge is only about a half-hour away…
As I sat outside with my
coffee this morning, it occurred to me that there is one sound I DO NOT hear,
here in my cozy little yard…and that I DO NOT MISS. That would be the sound of the blunderbusses
blasting into flocks of “game” birds over on the island, from five minutes
before it’s really legally light enough to shoot, until well into the early
afternoon.
I’m sure there’s plenty of
bird-murder going on in this area as well, but at least I don’t have to hear
and cringe and frown at it while I’m sitting in my own back yard.
Something to be thankful for
on this fine Autumn morning.
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