I wasn't ready to be out and about this morning when it was time to leave for a hair appointment. I needed more coffee. But strong and hardy as I am I forged ahead with the chores: having my head washed and cut and dried; returning library books (and despite my best intentions, bringing home yet more! when I have a dozen unread on my shelves); grocery shopping.
On the next-to-last lap homeward I saw proof that spring intends to come this year: three hen turkeys crossed the road and clambered up the brushy, snowy bank. I stopped the car to watch them. It's been a long time since I saw anything other than crows and hawks alive and moving outdoors, and I just needed to look. The poor girl in the lead was traveling (or not) about as well as I do in deep snow. With every step her feet sank down to her knees and she made poor progress. She appeared to rethink the route and turned toward the road again, but her sisters were in her way. They were in consultation when I went on; I didn't need to be part of their problem.
I guess I lied when I said it's been a long time...
Yesterday morning on the way down the hill, a deer, much smaller than it should be at this time of year, hurried a quarter mile ahead of me. Instead of heading off into the woods on either side, it loped straight down the road: odd. I got a little closer and saw it wasn't a deer; it was a young coyote, small as one of its western cousins, its coat not fully fluffy and brushy.
photo from Wolf in Coyote's Clothing
The little guy stayed right on the road to the bottom of the hill and then made a left to travel east on the paved two-lane state route. It's coyote breeding season. I'm thinking he had moved a little far afield from home in search of Love, and was taking the most direct route back . . . or to the next willing female.
Sure, it's sleeting right now . . . but it's all the way up to thirty-one degrees! ...and if the animals know spring will come, I will trust them.