I was watching the birds in the yard yesterday. I have quite a variety of birds visiting lately: blue jays, 2-3 different sparrows, dark eyed juncos, robins, flickers, woodpeckers, and a strange small red bird that i have not yet identified. But the strangest thing I saw was when I was watching a deer sneaking in to the yard cautious and skittish as if it were being followed.
I got my camera ready just in case something wonderful and amazing would appear, but just as fast as the deer appeared out of the brush, it got scared and ran off. I stood and watched in anticipation. I could just sense that something amazing and wonderful would happen. Maybe a coyote would come running. Maybe a bobcat or mountain lion would be on the prowl. Perhaps a timber-wolf or a bear was out cruising. Nothing appeared. I put the camera down and continued to do my daily chores. It began to sprinkle.
I listened to the rain for awhile, and during the rain times my thoughts seem to drift back to people and places I remember. It just so happened that that one Beatles song came on the little radio in my kitchen, "In My Life." As soon as the song was over and a little tear ran down my cheek, the sun came out and to the east across the the willow bog I saw a bent rainbow, faded and colorful, not too far away, and far enough to know that I could not walk there. Underneath this magnificent spectacle I thought what I saw in the grass evidence of stirring critters.
I paid no attention to the long canary grass matted down at first. Curiosity stirred the hunter and trapper in me. Perhaps I would see a glimpse of a predator, maybe a baby predator. Skunk? Raccoon? I began to study and focus all my attention and senses underneath the rainbow. The shifting in the grass was moving toward the yard. Soon I knew with all the confidence in my heart that this great stirring underneath the grass was what caused the deer to leave. I just knew it.
A snowbank still exists in a little band of trees between my yard and the willow swamp. The life in the grass slowly was working its way to this snowbank. I for sure would get a god glimpse of the creature as soon as he got on the bank. I grabbed my camera. quietly exited my house, posted up for a good shot, and was truly astonished when the creatures appeared on the snowbank. Click! I got it.
Immediately I broke down into tears of joy and laughter. Three winters ago when I moved back to my dad's farm, his penguins had disappeared. I put an advertisement in the local paper, but no one responded. "Lost: two breeding pair of penguins last seen heading north toward Middle River." It was the last time I had seen or heard of dad's penguins since he built the great fence for them. Yet from underneath the rainbow two baby penguins appeared as if to tell me in person, "We are alright. Today everything is all right."
They left, and immediately I wrote a letter to my friend Jose Jimenez. I told of my kids ball games and how we are finally getting some green grass, and how we would soon be back to work. I sent him the picture to share with his dad in Antarctica. I named the two penguins Bobby and Tommy. The picture should explain why; two buddies traveling along, taking a break on their journey and talking it out whatever matters are on their hearts, wondering which way to go next.
Hopefully the two babies will get along with the geese that are making my pond home.
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