It’s been a long time coming, this post. All through last autumn and all through winter I struggled to find my voice again, my reason for writing. I felt the ebbing of the seasons in my heart. I withdrew. I shrunk back from the world into my own kind of hibernation.
But now, even when it’s cold, the sun shines brighter and longer. Even when it’s gray, the birds sing. A red-headed woodpecker burbles up from the woods — sap rising into stiff, cold limbs. It reminds me of the burbling call of the red-winged blackbird just before summer.
And yesterday, towards evening, a pair of mallards came to sample the corn.