Today there is a bittersweet echo of the sadness at Jamie’s death last month, as his 62nd birthday would have been today. I console myself with the idea that he is well remembered, and will live on in legends. I find forgotten memories of him returning still, often making me smile.
The horses were finally released from the paddocks into the south field, but only because temperatures were not going to rise above freezing. Still, they were delighted, and pretended to graze, though there really isn’t any grass to eat.
Harry was having some issues with his eye, so we returned to St. Luke’s this morning for another thorough recheck. Luckily, the surgery has indeed gone well, and the problems are probably just transitory. Tincture of time should fix the slight distortion Harry has been experiencing. The good news is, we needn’t return for another visit on Tuesday, as this one suffices. As we were leaving St. Luke’s, we saw a pair of magnificent crows, but they were spooked by the camera.
The patient waits, with eyes dilated 
A crow on the wing
So, home again, and Marianne was here, hard at work. I got a picture, even though she was not keen on the idea. It was great to see her. While we were talking, I heard some hound voices in the woods. It sounded like foxhounds, and they were working toward us. It was just a couple, but they were speaking enthusiastically, and it was quite a thrill to see them come through, though they were doubtless rioting on deer. A little while later, I heard them coming back, and Harry and I came out onto the porch in time to note “Ware haunch!” and enjoy the music, in spite of the naughty riot on deer.
Marianne at work, smiling, of course 
Full cry
The birds could feel the bitter cold approaching, and they were feeding like crazy. I took many pictures.
Flicker and cardinals 
Flicker and cardinal 
Yellow shafted flicker departs 
Cardinal and starlings 
Cardinals and a dove 
A variety of five birds 
Junco 
Mockingbird 
Wren 
Pileated woodpecker 
Pileated woodpecker departs
This afternoon, snow arrived. I heard thunder, and horses were galloping to the paddocks. I looked at my watch. Time for stalls and dinner. They roughhoused as they waited for me to bring them in.
In the house, Roscoe and Mistletoe napped. Meanwhile, outside, Licorice went to the horse water trough for a drink after dinner. She has no desire to lead a pampered life. To paraphrase Irene Rutherford McLeod’s Lone Dog poem – Lic is a lean cat, a mean cat, a wild cat, and lone. Not for her the fireside and well-filled plate, but the wide wind and wild stars…
Finally, a little junco jumping to keep warm…
Stay safe, stay well, stay warm. Peace.
Love the “lone Lic”poem!
What a great cat poetic profile. Never heard of it or the poet before and I loved the pileated pecker.
Wow, after another dearth of 7 days, I received 7 blog posts today, yippeeee. Very welcome bird views on this wintry day! I hope Jamie continues to make you smile forever…