Nightime Visitor

First thing in the morning I see the tracks in the newly fallen snow. They have come across the field, under the cedar tree, and directly across the driveway onto the small front porch, as if contemplating admittance.. But the door was closed and they make a clean loop going back down the steps and around the corner towards the back yard. I find this one of the beauties of winter; stories revealed because of the snow. Deer tracks often cross the property, telling tales of night time visits, which stay mostly unknown in other seasons. These tracks are not deer and not large enough for the neighbor dog.
A smaller dog, I think, though I know of none around. The little claws and fingers are well defined, almost splayed out. They look like small agile hands. I begin to have another line of thought, which is only fortified by the direction the tracks head. Straight back to the pond they go and right close along its edge. They stop either to drink or enter the water at one spot , then off into the trees. A racoon. I imagine it coming along. I hope it didn't eat many fish. No sprinkler protection in winter.

Some time later, after more thought and further inspection, I change my mind. A racoon's paws are smaller, I believe. It must just be a dog, .... or a coyote. Now thats not a thought I like to entertain, but the mystery is not totally revealed after all.

Radha

Nature's Miracle

Outside the snow lies deep, while on my dining room table yellow flowers bloom. It is a forsythia branch and the last little buds open while a few leaves now appear where flowers once were. For me it is a small miracle and a symbol of duration and perseverence. Six long weeks or more it has survived in flower. I cut it off the bush in the second week of October. I was attracted to it because its leaves had turned a deep red and it looked unusual and a herald of autumn. I took it from its vase to bring to town a week later and laid it as part of the centre display on our round rug at our monthly dance meeting. Then back in its vase more bright flowers have continued to come forth. The red leaves have long ago dried up and fallen. It looks a bare stick, a little forlorn to the eye of some. But as long as flowers open and new buds swell it shall grace my table with its brave beauty. Thus I shall persevere too, honoring its example.