The Juncos Are Back
Yes, it’s a depressing time of the year. I woke at five this morning, which would normally be six, if we didn’t have a time change. How annoying. I live in the worst part of the country for sunlight and length of days. Okay, it’s not above the Arctic Circle, but still, darkness descends.
There is a moment of beauty in the fall, when the trees are ablaze. But how long does that really last until the leaves are gone and the world is filled with sticks shooting up into the sky, giving absolutely no joy to either me or the juncos? Although I will admit, it’s probably good for the woodpeckers.
A sure sign for me that the good times are at an end is the first appearance of a dark-eyed junco. The funny thing about this is that they come to my yard to escape the winter cold, while I see them as a sign of cold to come. I’m watching them now as I write. They, along with a female cardinal, are snipping at my petunias, soon to be done to death by a killing frost. Does anyone ever arrest the frost? Nope.
As you can see, I am distracted by nature. I love to see what’s outside my window because it’s much more interesting than what’s inside. Chores. Even with my newly acquired cleaning lady, I find that I still must set things in order, vacuum, do the laundry, change the sheets, wonder how long the vacuum cleaner will hold out. No wonder I look outside for comfort.
Right now I’m trying to decide whether to bother refilling the bird feeder. It does give me pleasure to see the birds flock to it. On the other hand, so do the squirrels. Not that they can profit, as they’re too heavy and the feeder shuts down. But they come in packs and never give up.
Perhaps my dilly-dallying about filling the feeder is the reason the variety of birds has dropped in my yard. I used to have a stunning array, but lately they’ve been mainly brown. The exceptions are the blue jays, the cardinals, the woodpeckers. Whither the gold finch? No one’s seen them this year.
Winter. Where are the snows of yesteryear? Everyone complains that, with climate change, we’re not seeing much snow. Everyone, especially the snowplow operators. Admitting the snow is pretty, if you’re inside, I for one don’t miss it. I don’t like driving on it; I don’t like feeling like a shut-in, I don’t like being cold and wet. Further, I have never found a pair of boots that support my daily walks. Check my closet. They’re all wastefully there.
But what can I do? The world turns and we must turn with it. So bring on the dark and the cold and the snow, and I shall try to survive through the dead season.