Dandelions and a Chilly June Morning

The sun is filtering morning rays through the kitchen window, bathing my plants in a gentle hue. It’s 48 F, a bit chilly for June and global warming. The Christmas cactus on my counter soaks in the light – it has three pink blooms that keep turning their heads with the sun.

A heron flies from the river and lands at the lake’s edge with a flurry of wings and pollen. Thousands of little parasols float in the air, dancing up and down, carrying a small dandelion seed. There is no breeze but the air pushes them up and down in the dance of life.  The sun’s diagonal rays are outlined and punctuated by thousands of fluffy umbrellas.

A scrawny fox I’ve never seen before is walking slowly at the edge of the woods, bushy tail moving rhythmically. I can’t tell if she is stalking a prey or just wandering back to her den not far from the narrow boardwalk, the slats squishing softly underfoot.  

We got so much rain in the last few days that the low terrain is murky and soggy. The deer must be taking a different route, I have not seen them in days. Their hooves would get stuck and unstuck in the mud, making popping sounds with each step.

A very fat racoon was waddling last night down the hill and disappeared into the thick forest behind our house. Not sure if she was pregnant or just obese – there is plenty around to eat.

The fox has finished off the snapping turtle eggs in the nest she kept digging up for at least three days. She finally realized all the eggs were gone so she stopped digging up my flower bed. I had covered the remaining eggs with a protective net but the shrewd fox dug under it.  We kept playing a cat and mouse game – I would rebury the empty shells and the fox would dig them up each time.

I don’t need to go very far to visit a zoo – I have my own in the back yard. All I have to do is pull up a chair and wait for the critters to emerge.