I otter get out more

Day Eight

It's amazing how the days start to run together so much faster than you can imagine.  I wish I could say it's because the fun never ends.  There have certainly been wonderful things happening in my woodland homestead.  But in truth, I think the time has passed because the uncertainty of what is happening, and what is to come in the midst of this virus is bigger than the time used to measure it.  

I have decided to do more to distance myself from the news and continuous "updates" that are re-tooling the same information and speculation.  

As a family, we have been blessed that, to get out and go for a walk, we are just as likely to see other people now (few enough to satisfy social distancing standards) as we were before people started staying home.  We are in a rural wonderland, with a little of everything in just a short walk's distance.  There are fields, lakes, streams, wetlands, pastures and my favorite--woods.  This time of year is in many respects the most magical.  Everything begins to wake up again, and the older I get, the more my inner Ferris Bueller tells me to slow down a bit and look around.

Every time I do stop and look, I see something new.  Over the past several days, the shrinking snow and ice mound on my deck has disappeared.  The moss on the slopes is already turning bright green, and the lake's edges are now water.

The cardinal was today's serenade, as I walked to the bench swing overlooking our tiny lake.  

But he was not the main event.

I did a double take, then a triple.  I have seen many things on the ice over the years.  Bald eagles, coyotes, foxes, deer, mice, woodchucks.

Today, an otter.  I froze, and he dove back into a hole in the ice.  A moment later, he emerged with something in his mouth, and noisily set about crunching away on it.  Then, back under the ice.  This continued for some time.  He would dive under in one place, and pop up in another.  A buffet in my backyard.

The world around me is waking up, again.  Even in the midst of what feels like a hibernation, a retreat from the civilized world, there is undeniable evidence that life is abundant, if we let ourselves see it.

I'm going to keep looking for it.  And I know it won't disappoint.