February 23, 2024
I woke up several times throughout the night, happy my wife was still next to me. In the early morning, the light on her alarm clock woke me as it slowly illuminated the room. Above the sound of the fan, I could hear the rain pouring down outside.
The morning started with biscuits glazed in an orange icing and hot lattes. As I ate the food much earlier than my normal feeding time, I felt lucky my wife was home. Last night, I enjoyed a hot homemade meal, and this morning featured breakfast.
While my wife prepared to leave for school to take an exam, I sat down for an hour to write in my office. My dog, Kilo, erupted in loud barks and growls as she pawed at the window. I separated two slats of the blinds to look out. On the farthest edge of the pasture, barely visible, was a herd of deer feeding. I showed my wife, and she pointed out a large hawk that was perched on a fence post. There is always something interesting happening in the woods.
After my wife left, I wrote for thirty more minutes before heading into the woods for my morning walk. It rained last night and the wet forest floor was quiet. A wet ground is ideal for stalking wildlife. The air was noticeably warmer today, and the forest was still. The deer had eaten all the corn I put out, a welcome sign that at least one herd was still near.
The forest is more beautiful after a shower. The budding pear tree branches held water droplets that glistened in the morning light. And the bark on the trees was much darker, creating a contrast that brought out the unique patterns of all the different trees. Crows cawed in the distance and I could hear the faint echoes of a neighbor’s hounds resonating through the quiet woods. I wondered if they were barking at deer.
Near the west side of the creek, I checked a trail camera and saw a pregnant doe feeding. There were also several videos of a shy heron that frequents the area. While I shot many photographs of the species at Buckhorn Reservoir, Wiggins Mill Reservoir, and Lake Wilson, this heron eluded me. It was very shy and always took flight before I could reach within one hundred yards of the wary bird.
I made my way to Beaver Tooth Rock and sat down to watch the morning show. The creek looked muddied from the rain. The color variation created by the wet vegetation made the forest look clearer, almost harsh. While I sat quietly, a lone mallard flew past, traveling along the creek from east to west. Ducks have a particular way of flying. They don’t look as agile or fluttery as other birds, but they move along their fly path straight and fast. Seeing the duck fly by looked natural in this setting, but I don’t think they’re a common sight in the city.
The wet forest emanated a strong perfume, smelling woodsy and organic. The rain smelled of petrichor, while the wet leaves emitted a strong musty, yet agreeable odor. Pine needles, above and below, smelled sweet. It was a great way to start the day.
Midday, I received a text from my wife. She had passed her exam with high marks. I was proud of her and could finally let this rotation go. Monday, the entire process would start anew with a rotation in internal medicine. The great news was that she would commute from home for the next few months.
I wasn't disappointed by the sunset that evening. The multi-layered sky, made up of stratus, cumulus, and cumulonimbus clouds, was lit in bright oranges, pinks, and deep blues. The cloud cover and moisture in the air dispersed the sun’s light, making the entire area of my home like it was glowing in soft light. From our home, we saw five deer crossing through the west side of the property.
While my wife cooked dinner, I went out for last light. As I walked through the pine grove, I saw a second herd of deer standing in the middle of the field, watching me intently. I kept moving and one deer barked loudly, signaling the herd that it was time to move. They ran south down the tree line while I headed north. The deer in this herd were noticeably larger than the deer I saw near the house.
The dead leaves that covered the forest floor looked orange. They had dried since my morning walk and crunched with each step. The morning rain had swollen the creek, making it gurgle loudly. But as the sun fell, and the darkness rose, frogs croaked loudly all around me. I took some video to put on Instagram so others could hear. This was the sound of spring. It was getting dark, and the temperature dropped, causing a thin veil of fog to form over the creek. I stared at the beautiful scene, interrupted by the loud growl of my stomach.
I turned south and made my way back toward the house. This time, I was not heading to an empty home. My wonderful partner was there waiting for me with a hot meal. When I arrived, I set the table and played her the video of the creek, which caught the loud songs of frogs. She was ready for spring and I would miss winter. The night and conversation went on as I noted how different the evening was when I was together with my best friend. The weekend had begun and good times were ahead.