About This Blog

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I have loved things Country and Western all of my life. I have loved the ranches and farms, the work, the fields, the barns, livestock, and the food. I was born and raised in Kentucky where I learned to ride and care for horses. Most of my family lived on farms and/or were livestock producers. I have raised various livestock and poultry over the years.I have sold livestock feed and minerals in two states. My big hats and boots are only an outward manifestation of the country life I hold dear to my heart. With the help of rhyme or short story, in recipes or photos, I make an effort in this blog to put into words my day to day observations of all things rural; the things that I see and hear, from under my hat. All poems and short stories, unless noted otherwise, are authored by me. I hope you enjoy following along.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

A Winters Hike





It is a gratifying  kind of day when the sun shines its tempered warmth upon you in a spring like fashion; while the bare limbs, cool air, and tan colored grasses remind you that winter still has not loosed its hold.

This day is warm for February. It is nearly 60 degrees, and the sun is peeking through wispy gray and lavender winter clouds. The breeze is cool as it blows across the silvery gray surface of the frozen pond.

My flannel coat is unbuttoned, and I have stuffed my gloves deep in its pockets for now. My face is warmed as  I remove my cowboy hat, close my eyes and point toward the sun. I want to soak up this warmth. It is refueling my body for my  journey through the remainder of winter.  After so much cold and snow, this respite is welcomed by all of nature. We are not fooled into thinking winter is past though, there is plenty of frigid air and fluffy white left to come our way.

The squirrels nearby chase each other in excited circles on the ground, then make mad dashes up one tree and then another. Their long red furry tails are held high like sails on a boat, and they travel at top speed in a celebration of sunlight and pleasant temperatures.

A murder of crows are cawing occasionally in a desolate cornfield on the other side of the tree line. This cacophony is all that disturbs the peacefulness of the wooded area where I walk. Oh, there are sounds, but they are the sounds of quiet natural spirits.The breeze disturbs the long slender grasses and berry laden bushes at the woods edge. The rhythmic swaying of dancing grass and limbs, and the rustle of the remaining oak leaves, offers proof that the woods, while subdued in winter drowsiness, are alive and awaiting the energizing of spring. There is the flutter of wrens and sparrows as I pass their roosts, and their 'cheep-cheep' call as they flit keeps all aware that there is a stranger in their midst. No, the woods are quiet, but never silent for the ear that is tuned to listen.

Further along the trail I hear the blowing snort of a deer, and see the "ghost dog" amble up the ridge and fade into the browns and greys of the winter landscape. The natural camouflage of Mother Earths creatures never ceases to amaze me.

All along the trail there are signs of life, in tracks and in sight and sound. The woods are alive, and as a part of them today, so am I. I spend the better part of 2 1/2 hours meandering over trails and frozen streams until I notice the lenthening of the shadows. I am reminded that, although the days are longer by three minutes each day now, winter afternoons are short this time of year.

It is getting late, with only a little daylight left now. The temp is dropping . I head to my truck and
and start the engine. Before I go, I take another look around, and roll the window down to take in one final deep breath of the forest air. It has  been a grand day for a human to walk, for the birds to fly, for the forest creatures to  hunt and play. Its been warm and wonderful. A grand day really, for us all.

NOTE: It was two weeks prior to this writing when  I took this hike. Today as I post this, there is 7 1/2  inches of snow on the ground. Welcome to Illinois in the winter.