Six Days Until Spring

On my way to the gym as I was crossing the road today, two geese were flying overhead, and rather low.

I hurried to the curb as not to get hit, and looked right up, only to be greeted by a hot flash.

As the goose nearest me, freaking her long neck, to look at me – it was unbelievable.

I just always assumed, that geese keep their necks straight when they are flying.

Neither have I expected to have my jimmies rustled, that early in the morning, golie.

Something like this previously happened to me, at Nordhouse Dunes, by Michigan’s Ludington.

But this time it was a hawk, and I was rather plump, roasting in the sun – made me wish I wasn’t, though.

That is the little wilderness where Owls, are known to confuse hair buns with gerbils.

Where signs printed in Comic Sans, mysteriously proclaim “This Is Bear Country”.

And presumably, you better have a send pair of underpants.

As I can’t imagine, what this sign does for your safety.

And one time, I saw Deer, drinking straight from lake Michigan.

And I could almost tell, that one deer asked the other.

Are you keeping an eye on him, is he staring at us – I was.

Oh, it is the place of one of my most regrettable bird feedings.

I helped an old weathered, albatross sized seagull…

To a healthy proper meal, in the morning.

Only to watch a young lady, try to share her snack with the beautiful birds.

And my albatross friend, empty his stomach, straight into her hair.

With a slap, that I can still hear.

Ludington is a little city, with little more than a main street.

And Nordhouse Dunes, a tiny little wideness tucked in an hour behind it.

Mostly wooded, but with enormous ancient dunes, as you near the sandy lake shore, with an infinite horizon.

And early Spring is not too early at all, to ponder the year’s hiking and camping.

Wherever you are in the world, there is surely some wilderness near by.

And there cannot be a greater invitation into nature.

Than a wilderness, yearning for the year’s new hikers.

Adventures may seem tiny, when we look back, or put them to text.

But that is not how we experience them, when we are there, in the moment.

Even the siltiest of stories, become priceless and forever a source of joy.