Water. . . .The sound of ten thousand springs released from their wintery prisons and flowing freely in Lanark Highlands. The bubbling, sparkling and mad euphoric gurgling is the background music of spring coming to the north woods, a choreography born of riotous tumbling waters, little geysers and whirlpools here and there, twigs, small stones, floating leaves and tiny glassy icicles.
The harmonies being sung in counterpoint are vast waves of geese passing overhead, the raucous chant of jays in the overstory, the soft hooting of our resident Great Horned Owls as they tend their young in the old oak tree on the other side of the creek, the sharp cries of a pair of Red-tailed Hawks circling high in the blue.
For the most part, the returning Turkey Vultures are silent, but their very flight is an eloquent song. As unappealing as it appears on the ground, cathartes aura is poetry in motion up there riding the early morning thermals, and its effortless soaring is a thing of incomparable beauty.
Who needs anything else?
2 comments:
Your description made me feel like I was there. None of those sounds around here, but the wild green parrots have been going crazy in the palm trees lately.
It is such a treat to come here to see your wonderful photos, and to feel nature described in such an eloquent way. Thanks!
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