Merry Christmas from Walla Walla

Bennington Lake in the snow, Walla Walla Wash.                  © Diane B. Reed

White Eyes  

by Mary Oliver

 

In winter

    all the singing is in

         the tops of the trees

             where the wind-bird

with its white eyes

    shoves and pushes

         among the branches.

             Like any of us

he wants to go to sleep,

    but he's restless—

         he has an idea,

             and slowly it unfolds

from under his beating wings

    as long as he stays awake.

         But his big, round music, after all,

             is too breathy to last.

So, it's over.

    In the pine-crown

         he makes his nest,

             he's done all he can.

I don't know the name of this bird,

    I only imagine his glittering beak

         tucked in a white wing

             while the clouds—

which he has summoned

    from the north—

         which he has taught

             to be mild, and silent—

thicken, and begin to fall

    into the world below

         like stars, or the feathers

               of some unimaginable bird

that loves us,

    that is asleep now, and silent—

         that has turned itself

             into snow.

Wind, Weather and Feathers

Red-tailed Hawk                                        © Diane B. Reed

It's been a rather unsettled December, with a number of significant windstorms. No snow down in the valley yet, but an unusual amount of rain. We made a recent day trip to Pullman, accompanied by herds of tumbleweeds. They were skipping around every corner on our trip up and back. We don't get that many here in Walla Walla, but they abound in the open spaces in the Palouse. With wind gusts up in the 60 mph range, they move right along.

We seem to be saturated with hawks at the moment. The Sharp-shinned Hawk hangs out in our walnut tree so regularly that the little birds haven't been eating us out of house and home at the feeder. When the Sharpie takes a break we often see a Red-tailed Hawk looking for an opportunity. He seems to range from nearby Fort Walla Walla Park down to the pond in Lions Park.

It's the time of the year when we see Great Blue Herons in the fields outside of town. It seems odd to see them away from the rivers and ponds, but at this time of the year they're also looking for mice and small vermin in the cut fields.

Now that we've passed the solstice it's heartening to know that the days will begin to lengthen, turning the corner from darkness toward the light. Still, winter in its fullness is yet to come. Who knows, perhaps we'll have a white Christmas!

Dust of Snow

by Robert Frost

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.