Our rainfall has been phenomenal. The pond is at its fullest. The stream running through the meadow has just begun to sprout watercress once again. Relief! The generosity of the wilderness to offer up nutritious greens while snow blankets the ground gives me hope, once again.
I pulled myself from the couch to walk the long loop with the dogs just before darkness fell. I had to make myself do it today, but once out I felt the natural pull of the forest moving me along pathways I know with my eyes closed. The snow has, after nearly three weeks, begun to melt just a bit. The going is not quite the workout it has been.
If you've read this blog you remember about the visitation of Captain Jack last winter. The ruddy buck surely left his mark and gave me countless sleepless nights assisting 5 does in the delivery of their offspring. 8 young ones offered boundless love in May of 2012. Five of the flock found a new home this last fall. The herd numbers 9. They do not like the snow so much. In the week giant white feathers fell constantly they were hidden away in their manger. Now they begin to wear visible pathways moving single file across the snow, nibbling the usnea from fallen oak branches.
I let myself fantasize today about the wildflowers of spring, encouraged by the sighting of watercress sprouting. While the winter shrouded earth suggests only brown lifeless branches exist, Nasturtium officinale sings of the return of the light.