snowy musings of an idle farmer, mlb

I was walking in the snow when I heard it

A sharp crack, snow launched in a fine shower of mist

Small hidden birds shifted in the evergreen but refused to fly

I watched the massive tree as it seemed to be taking a bow

The branch leaning forward until released into a placid fall onto the fence below

'Don’t play under the big trees today their branches are giving'

Surrendering to the snow

As we all should

Aware of irony in the silence of our own flock

Huddled in the hen house, snug

While I mucked about the farm in big brown boots wet and snowy

anyway

Ignoring my own cautions but grateful for the ugly autumn pruning

I ventured beneath the canopy of stubborn green and weighty whiteness

For a closer view

I gazed high up the truck until I couldn’t tell limb from sky

But I could not see the future any more than I could read x-rays 

(nod and say ‘hum’ and avoid eye contact less you be asked to comment)

I walked to the fence surveying the damage

Wondered for a moment about the lines tangled in the branch that was forming the crest of the next falling wave when a second crack higher then the first broke my moment of indecision

Coffee…’now is a great time to go inside for a cup of coffee.’

snowy musings of an idle farmer

mlb 11/10/12