sun again
who couldn't walk forever
into spring?
After a light dusting of snow, McCormick's Creek Park is the perfect place to experience a series of winter moments. The first one was opening the car door above a sheet of grizzled hike. The next--negotiating carefully across it as it glittered in the late January sun. Luckily, it was the best kind of ice, striated, uneven, bumpy, the kind your boots naturally find purchase on--so no falling. Then hiking Trail 5, the Wolf Cave Trail, all three of us Tom, Mr. Darcy and I, stopped to a loud clattering above us: a woodpecker searching for lunch.
Later, we crossed and recrossed the creek. The water ran high after all that rain. We had to maneuver over stones and rime-crusted logs and I thought later that haiku resembles that, a careful stepping over the void, seeking purchase from rock-word to rock-word, bridging one state of consciousness to the next. OK, that's a stretched metaphor--yes, indeedy.
But the two hundred crows just west of Ellettsville eating chaff from last autumn's crop were not. How cool it was to see all of them fly up, wheeling in one immense black cloud against the vivid blue sky.
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