Up The Creek

by

Ken M. Blomberg  

"Winters Grip"

     Spring seems a long way off, when the snow’s knee-deep and the thermometer hasn’t been above freezing for months.  If you’re like us, you’ve been praying for warmer temperatures. Shame on us.  Last week, the United Nations again warned the world of global warming.  Maybe we’re praying too hard.  Despite all that, there are plenty of signs that spring’s right around the corner, regardless of the temperatures.

     Like the ruckus raised by the flock of twenty cardinals wintering around our feeders.  If the sun peeks out during the day, the bright red males belt out their song, a loud clear whistle, “wheat, wheat, wheat, what-cheer, what-cheer, what-cheer”.

     The penned-up tom gobbles to the wild turkeys, who have been visiting the pheasant feeder down by the pond.  They don’t call back, apparently saving their breath and energy to survive the winter that doesn’t want to go away.

     A rooster pheasant ignores the feeder made by the local chapter of Pheasants Forever, but stops by the kitchen window sunflower feeders twice a day.  Up to five hens have joined him from time to time, but seldom all at once.

     For most of each day, the bird dogs stay inside the building that houses the kennels.  But when the boys and I clean the kennel runs, they enjoy a romp in the snow.  Lately, they’re outside more often.  I think they know winter’s days are numbered and by the end of March, they’ll be running in the fields, searching for birds along the creek.

     At times, winter’s grip shows signs of weakness.  Predicted snow showers turn to freezing drizzle, as temperatures rise above the freezing point.  Soon, daytime temperatures will climb to levels that will rapidly destroy the snow blanketing the river valley.   Localized flooding may follow.

          Before you blink your eyes, the geese, cranes and other migratory birds will return.  They’ll arrive back home to their place of birth and once again share the land with us.  The male red-winged blackbirds should be first, followed by robins and woodcock.  Before the snow completely leaves the landscape, the neighborhood sandhill cranes will announce their arrival, their ringing trumpets echoing across the river valley.

     Then we’ll know that spring is truly here!