A Call In The Night

I tottered off to bed last night exhausted from a long and mostly disheartening trip to Arizona. Darkness settled all around me till I heard the soft call of Barred Owl  around ten o'clock. "For sounds in winter nights, and often in winter days, I heard the forlorn but melodious note of a hooting owl indefinitely far; such a sound as the frozen earth would yield if struck with a suitable plectrum, the very lingua vernacular of Walden Wood, and quite familiar to me at last, though I never saw the bird while it was making it."[Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), American  philosopher, author, and naturalist. 

When I reawaked this morning I remembered that call and wondered what the message had been. Looking out the window into the backyard I knew. Friend owl had been announcing the coming of a winter storm overnight.  Each season has its own rhythms. For me winter is the time of repose. I set aside the energies of the outdoor life and enjoy nature from a warmer view. I watch and read from my recliner chair now enhanced with a gracious Christmas gift a Nook, covered  by a warm blanket, and with a stack of books waiting their turn.  Of course, there are some outdoor duties. The sidewalk has to be shoveled, the driveway plowed and Mr. Baron taken for his walk.  Thoughts of gardening, birding, fishing, photography, hiking and camping will lay dormant till cabin fever sets in (usually about February 1^st)! It's 9.00 a.m. and the road is plowed already. People have to get to work. Not me though.  I trudge back into the house to look for my reading glasses. There is something to be said for being retired. The driveway can wait.