“It” is my drive to the college where I teach, a 20 mile trek through a countryside that displays canvases splashed with brilliant bright colors and moody dark landscapes. Sometimes the canvas is barren, sometimes laced with daisies and buttercups, now topped with snow mounds that look like giant marshmallows. Several ponds dot the landscape that lines the highway and I delight in tracking the lifestyles of the inhabitants which include ducks, geese, turtles, Great Grey Herons and the occasional jumping fish. I take great comfort in all life rhythms and these lovely creatures so generously share theirs with me.
During most winters, the ponds don’t freeze over for long but this year, with no thaw, the ice kept the over-winter geese from their life-blood waters. Many died, I’m told. I didn’t see any that had, but then again, I didn’t see any geese at all. This is unusual. The cycles of life and nature are not always kind.
In the fall when the hunters bows and guns flourish and their prey don’t, turkey vultures swirl about far overhead, creating a cloud that undoubtedly marks the gutted carcasses as their own. In the summer, road kill ‘manufactured’ by us humans angers me, for this is not part of nature’s scheme. It saddens me to think about the nests and dens to which a mother or father animal will never return leaving their helpless young abandoned and hungry.
Today on my way, I saw a creature running ahead of me, straight down the entrance ramp like a horse on a race track. Fortunately this little critter ran off into the brush before finding his way into the chaos of human traffic.