Saturday, November 20, 2010

Giving up the helm

November, the trees have given up their leaves to nurture the seeds that have fallen on the ground over summer, and now stand naked, impervious to the cold northern winds, and stand alone against the gray winter skies.  They no longer can hide the brown and black squirrels that scamper up and down their trunks, or the woodpeckers knocking soundly against the bark for insects now deep in their winter sleep. The huge black turkeys roost in the top most branches, leaving the ground open to the coyotes who look up into the night air hoping one may just be close enough to lunge at and pick up an easy meal.  Huge eagles now fly low, with the crows hassling them at every air current, along with the beautiful white breasted hawk that sits alone watching these events with curious eyes.  So begins my nemesis.....enclosed by four walls, watching, waiting, for the first snowflake to make its appearance, and cover the brown bare grounds with a white quilt that will erase the summers escapades and quell the thunderbolts chased by lightening rods across the darkened skies.

Its the season of the great bucks, now turned the color of the tree barks, so as not to be seen by the hunters.  This year there seems to be a surplus of deer, which is quite unusual as it has been quiet the past 4 or 5 seasons.  I watch as the sun lays low in the west, and a 8 pointer  slowly marches over the hill and takes a look at the bounty before him.  My alpacas are watching from the far side of the pasture with quizzical looks to ascertain just what this marvelous creature has in mind for the evening.    He holds his head proudly as he walks to the fence, and sniffs the cool evening air for that ever evasive doe.  He stands at the fence for a minute or two, looks at the alpacas, while my lone goat prances around excitedly and the alpacas lower there heads and continue to graze on what green forage that has been left by the frosts of past weeks. The pasture does not hold the prize he is looking for, so he continues back to wood line, stretches up on his back legs, and leaves his scent on the tall oak, paws the ground a bit, and take on another oak further down the way...and then finally disappears into the woods.  A few minutes later, a another nervous shadow appears, three does sprint across the field headed for the other side of the ravines, not ready yet for the marvelous buck that has been searching for them earlier.   His time will come, but not tonight, and the owls will hoot the story to the moon as darkness settles over the homestead.

I have been keeping a wary eye on the hawks and eagles  this fall.  There seem to be many more than usual, and tell tale signs of feathers shows that my chickens are now on their menu as well.  I have watched them swoop in and fly off before any one of us can get outside with their prize caught up in the sharp talons to a destination deep into the woods.  Angel, one of my big whites, barks to no avail, as they know that there is no harm so high in the sky. I can hear them laughing as they circle, chattering their plan of attack, waiting for the prime opportunity, and sailing down with out hesitation, afraid of no one.  It is their land now, nothing can find cover to hide from the wide wings of destruction.

Thanksgiving will soon be here, and I am giving up the helm.  Ever since the children were little, Thanksgiving was held at our place, my former husband was gone for the week deer hunting, and this was our celebration of the fact.
Now we will go to Michigan, and Lisa and Larry will be hosting the event, and though this may be a little sad, to give up this task, it is to my benefit.  Our house is way to small with the dogs, and all my "Stuff" anymore, and I don't have to clean and put away all the things that do not surface again till I tear everything apart looking for them.  Sometimes that may take months.....and the turkey will not have to be cooked squeezed in between all the other things that the oven must prepare.  Plus there will be no leftovers in the refrigerator that last for weeks, if not frozen immediately after everyone leaves.  This will be a first, we will leave early, providing Tim is home, on Thursday morn, and return that evening, free from all the cooking, cleaning, baking and all that stuff....the queen has left the building.  The only problem will be Tim's schedule...will he be home, or on the road...there is no rhyme or rhythm anymore to his job, and we must fly by the seat of our pants instead of making plans.   But we will know the weekend before, and plan accordingly as Lisa says it could be on the weekend....or Friday....or ...sometime in that week.....only the future knows.

The weather has turned now to cold, very cold, like 14 above this morning, the first day of deer hunting, the shots ring out like crackling icicles across the moody sky.  This is the weather that finally rinses clean all my ambitions of garden work, and turn to the fine art of window watching as I turn scraps of material into pieces of quilts, or crochet long pieces of wool into rugs.  My little corner of the world now consists of yarn strings that have caught on my boots and make cobwebs across the entire house, material scraps that look like confetti strewed on the floor changing the direction of the tile.  Bolts of material stacked precariously on chairs waiting for the magical cut of the scissors to proclaim their fame.  In the middle of all this I sit, like a child among mountains of toys, just not quite sure which one I will play with on this cold, quiet, awesome day.

The gourds are gathered in the garage, and new ones drying in the greenhouse, ready to become spectacles of wisdom this coming new year. I just have to gather a few more tools to begin crossing the road into a new vision of  colorful scenes to tell the story of winter dreams. It is always good to have new anticipations for the coming year so as not to become lost in the heavy winter clouds that fall to the ground.

This is the time to wish all a wonderful holiday blessing, of Thanksgiving and all the holidays that come to the many days of this ending year.  In giving up the end of this old year, and entering into the depths of the new year, we each give up the helm and become captains of new dreams, talents, and begin afresh. So much to look forward to, so much to wonder about, entering the new realm of the unknown is no longer a worry, but just another road to travel.  Taking the curves slowly, forever going forward.

1 comment:

  1. giving up the helm...what a wonderful feeling!