I wasn’t going to come this morning (I was going to come tomorrow. It’s pretty cold.), but I had nothing else. I was just sitting there and I had to come. I wasn’t sure that there would be anything new – the sky is pale, wind, crunchcrunchcrunch again.
I typed all my notes last week, so those ideas are in my head. I wasn’t even going to turn on the tape recorder, but there were turkey tracks down the path. I could envision a whole flock of them, flapping and squawking away.
Three deer, hopping off. Hopping. Loping, loping is a good word for it, through the grass, white tailed. Now I see them again on the next hill. I wonder if they’re my three deer from last week, I’m making friends with the deer. I’ll greet them good morning every time I come out.
The only thought I’ve had today (I’ve just been walking, I don’t know) but the only thought I’ve had is that I dressed like I thought the prairie should be. Except my scarf is too soft and my jeans are too blue. Boots are too tight on my toes. Today I’m just listening. [long pause, breathe.] February.
More deer, no magic today.
Experience of place depends as much on your mood as it does wildlife and the weather.