This morning my youngest and I had to venture down a white-ish driveway to get to the car parked at the bottom. We were concentrating so hard that I didn’t spot these tracks until the trip back up. I didn’t know we had raccoons coming around. Winter gives up some secrets.
The other day I was in nearby Horseshoe Bay. We are in such a cold snap that I was wondering where the Horseshoe Bay crows were hanging out. They’re such a feisty, sassy bunch. Sassy even for crows.
You know, I think you could probably use the word rollicking to describe them.
I think maybe the word rollicking was invented for the Horseshoe Bay crows.
In warmer weather as I walk along the street there they find a spot above to land and tell me what they think of my outfit, my hair, and me, but they do it with such charm and teasing that I somehow feel flattered, like I’ve gotten attention from the cool boy. Not like I’ve just had the mugging I’ve in fact had. I have such a sweet spot for my Horseshoe Bay crows.
So the other day as I wondered where the sassy things were — eventually spotted them playing tag in the tops of a tree — I also wondered where the heck the hummingbirds would go in such a cold streak. One variety stays here through the winter. I always doubt this can be true since they are such teensy little scraps and what can they possibly live on? But I was proved wrong a few times lately when first I saw one at the local store and then a crowd whooping it up around a friend’s feeder. Not rollicking, but definitely whooping it up and feisty. Still, what do they do when it stays below freezing for days like it’s done here lately? Snuggle?
Ouch. What about those beaks?
Inside, creatures unhappy with the cold stick a little closer and enjoy the fire but mostly just look sort of grumpy and uncomfortable. Like her polish won’t dry. Not so sassy.