A Peaceful Escape

A few days ago we had a skiff of snow here in Luna.  But we could see the tips of the hills over in Caney covered with white.  Bundling up in warm coats and hats to ward off the cold wind, we jumped into the pickup and went to see what we could find.  

The Refuge is a favorite place of ours, no matter the season.  Spring brings wildflowers and mushrooms. Summer brings birds and sparkling streams, springs bubbling up under the gravel. Fall shows us brilliant colors of yellow and red and orange...and all the spectrum in between.  But winter... winter is a different story.  When the cold weather arrives, the trees shed their finery and present stark branches and trunks of grey and black and deep brown.  Only the sycamores shine with silver down by the creek and along the shimmering water.  

This day we were ostensibly searching for sheds.  It is the time of year when the bucks lose their antlers and leave them in the fields and margins along the hills and valleys.  We knew a few places to go and dutifully stomped around, seeking a glimpse of white bone there in the bronze leaves or among the turnips in the wildlife plot.  Armadillos, skinny and hungry, were all we saw, their poor red noses seeking a bit of food to keep them going.  Truthfully, I intensely dislike armadillos, but even I felt a little sorry seeing them frantically scouring the field for a meal.

The snow that lay on the ground, shadowy lumps of leaves beneath, caught my attention.  And the quiet.  No birds, no squirrels, no rustle in the grass.  Up high above the fields below, the sentries of the forest stood tall.  Their comrade trees that had fallen lay covered with white blankets.  It always amazes me how different forests look in the snow.  In the rain they are wet masses of dripping bark. On a cloudy day you pass them by with scarcely a look.  But when snow-covered , they make a statement all their own.  I looked beyond and down the hill and away.  And still they marched.  The silent soldiers of the earth. I could close my eyes and almost hear them sighing.  Guarding the hill until the warm weather arrives.  Keeping it safe for the next season.