Snow, Not Funny Anymore

Snow and snow and snow...

First Snowfall

First snowfall, 

first flakes soft feathering, 

ice on your tongue.

Hard Winter for White Tail Deer

It is unusual for the white tail deer 

to show up in urban neighbourhoods 

during the day.  The snow is deeper this year 

and food in the woods must be harder to reach.  

They are eating corn we have thrown for the ducks, 

and nibbling the needles of yew and crab-apple branch tips.

Photos and words are copyright 2011-2014 Carol Steel.

What We See in the Yard

 

Each day in winter, we feed the ducks.

  When the snow is too deep for them to forage on the river marsh,

it is essential to remember to throw

the cracked corn out for them.

Our biggest problem is to avoid attracting pigeons.

 

 

However, for the ducks, the larger issue

is avoiding becoming lunch.

 

 

In the past week, hungry Bald Eagles have patrolled

the tallest evergreens near our home.

 

 

We don't always see them as their heads

look like snow in the trees and their dark bodies blend

with the branches.  Can you see two?

 

 

Once we spotted them and began to take photos,

the eagles moved to another tree. 

We'll stay inside from now on;

we don't wish to disturb them.

 

 

We feel lucky to live in a place where we can enjoy

 such magnificent birds from our kitchen windows.

 

 

I wonder if we could entice the eagles

to eat the pigeons.

 

I can live with that.

Happy Holidays

 

Happy Holidays from Our Home to Yours

March

 

 

 

March

 

Each day is the same.

The black trees awake wearing sweaters of snow.

And all day the snow comes,

steady and slow.

 

Spring stirs.

Beneath her blankets, she stretches;

her yawns full of warmth.

She is waking.  Her belly gurgles and groans

with the longing

after long sleep.
 

Each afternoon, the roads emerge

slick and stark beside the snow;

their banks pitted with dirt.

And the black branches shine,

strung with jewels of melt.

 

 

 

 

 

Twilight invites the shadows in

and the lights disappear into a sky of snow.

The world is muffled,

silent and still except for the snow sifting,

steady and slow.

And each morning,

the trees dress again

in their sleeves of angora.

 

Spring grows restless,

as melt-water throbs

through her veins.  Her hunger rises

and she aches to swallow

the snow.

 

But

winter whispers,

“Not yet, not yet….”

 

This is a draft of a poem on which I’m working.  It seems that March days are all the same yet there are subtle changes, bringing the hope of spring.  Words and photos are copyright ©Carol Steel.





Monday's Snowfall

 

 

Monday's snowfall edged the winter branches in white.  I captured photos so early that despite photo adjustments, most of the pictures remained bluish.  I liked the contrast of snow on dark wood so decided to share them even with the early morning's blue-grey. 

The sun eventually turned the world a truer colour but it also melted away the snow.  For a brief time, all was fresh and soft and lovely.

Snow and Then More Snow

 

 

 

 

The storm is over (mostly) though wind still gusts into waves and arcs of drift.  There is a three-foot drift at our back door.  The house is surrounded by troughs and waves of snow, like a frozen sea.  The garage door and the barbecue are partially hidden.  It is wild and lovely and a little too much work.

 

 

First February Sunday

 

 

First February Sunday

 

 

And it has snowed. 

The world is a white wonder,

clean and fresh and new.

Words and photos are copyright Carol Steel.

Saturday Before Christmas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday Before Christmas