Hey, everyone. It is a cold , rainy day at the green retreat. The temperature is in the mid-thirties and there is snow in the mountains just west of me. I always hated this weather when I had to get out and work in it. If it had been colder, the precipitation would have been snow and though inconvenient for traveling, at least I wasn't soaked. Now I don't have to get out in it. But, after all those years, I have become somewhat ambivalent about the weather. I went for a drive and walked a track in the rain. I would have preferred to walk in the woods, but no one was walking but me, which is how I like it. Therefore it was a fine day for a walk on the track.
Though I wasn't walking in the woods, I did see some wildlife during the drive. The first was a woodchuck. He was running up the road on this old, narrow, country lane. His fur seemed very light-colored and I thought, perhaps, that he had tinted it, just a little. I wanted to stop and ask him several questions. (1)" Why are you running North? This time of year, South would be a better direction." Though woodchucks don't hibernate, as far as I know. Perhaps he was a beaver who had been shorted when they passed out the tails.
(2) "Just how much wood could you chuck, anyway?" I didn't ask him because I didn't want to pry into his affairs.
Less than a mile from there, I drove past a small white house that almost sits on the road. It is a quiet place and the owner allows a bunch of chickens to run loose. They are continually in the road and have to be avoided. I had to stop and let one of them get across the road today. No big deal. I won't wreck my car for an animal in the road, but if I can spare them harm, I will. I felt the urge to stop and ask the chicken, "Hey, just why do you cross the road?" But again, I am a gentleman and didn't want to pry into his/her affairs.
On the same road, there is a small white house that really shocked me the other day. It is nestled back against a low hill which is heavily forested with oaks and maples. Of course the trees are bare this time of year. Between the road and the hill, someone graded out just enough room to build their home. It is an old house and the roof is in bad shape. Recently, they have had a tarp spread over a large section of the shingles. It bothers me a bit to see folks who have a problem which they are too old or poor or skill-wise unable to fix. I have stopped and helped people with things of this nature. These days I do good to keep my own affairs in order. All that is not the subject, though. The other day, I drove by this house and a large dog was sitting on the roof of this place. I was shocked, really. He barked as I drove by and seemed relatively happy, sitting on his haunches and manifestly enjoying the view from his vantage point. He appeared to see himself as the Marco Polo of dogdom.
I don't know if the bank behind the house is high enough to enable the mutt to jump onto the roof or not. Perhaps his owner took him up there for company while he was spreading the tarp, and forgot him. Heck, he might have been starving. I actually check when I drive by now and have never seen the intrepid beast there again. For all I know, the dog may have jumped onto the roof from the bank, and clawed up the roof trying to get his owner's attention, thus necessitating the tarp stretched across the damaged shingles. I pondered all these things, but I didn't stop to ask. Because I didn't want to pry into the dog's affairs. Or his owner's.
From the author's green retreat, I'm CE Wills.
(2) "Just how much wood could you chuck, anyway?" I didn't ask him because I didn't want to pry into his affairs.
Less than a mile from there, I drove past a small white house that almost sits on the road. It is a quiet place and the owner allows a bunch of chickens to run loose. They are continually in the road and have to be avoided. I had to stop and let one of them get across the road today. No big deal. I won't wreck my car for an animal in the road, but if I can spare them harm, I will. I felt the urge to stop and ask the chicken, "Hey, just why do you cross the road?" But again, I am a gentleman and didn't want to pry into his/her affairs.
On the same road, there is a small white house that really shocked me the other day. It is nestled back against a low hill which is heavily forested with oaks and maples. Of course the trees are bare this time of year. Between the road and the hill, someone graded out just enough room to build their home. It is an old house and the roof is in bad shape. Recently, they have had a tarp spread over a large section of the shingles. It bothers me a bit to see folks who have a problem which they are too old or poor or skill-wise unable to fix. I have stopped and helped people with things of this nature. These days I do good to keep my own affairs in order. All that is not the subject, though. The other day, I drove by this house and a large dog was sitting on the roof of this place. I was shocked, really. He barked as I drove by and seemed relatively happy, sitting on his haunches and manifestly enjoying the view from his vantage point. He appeared to see himself as the Marco Polo of dogdom.
I don't know if the bank behind the house is high enough to enable the mutt to jump onto the roof or not. Perhaps his owner took him up there for company while he was spreading the tarp, and forgot him. Heck, he might have been starving. I actually check when I drive by now and have never seen the intrepid beast there again. For all I know, the dog may have jumped onto the roof from the bank, and clawed up the roof trying to get his owner's attention, thus necessitating the tarp stretched across the damaged shingles. I pondered all these things, but I didn't stop to ask. Because I didn't want to pry into the dog's affairs. Or his owner's.
From the author's green retreat, I'm CE Wills.
Comments
Post a Comment