Calibration

Finally.  The first trickle of water flowing down Osier Creek signals the semi-official proclamation of spring.  There was a different sensation to the drive up our road today.  Creamy white riffles of melted water running down the ditch brought a entirely new feeling to the land. 

Watching an animal calibrates oneself.  You move when it moves.  Driving up to house I startled a nice, mature white tail doe.  She was standing near the top of the way and made a short jump towards the tarp-covered birch logs I cut last fall.  I turned off the truck, stalkingly opened the door and got out into the warm spring air.  Her eyes met mine.  We traded motionless thoughts for a few minutes.  Her ivory white snout peaked her face and lined the perimeter of her enormous telescopic ears.  The dull yet rich brown of her winter coat shined in the sun.  Finally she wagged her tale just like a dog conveying it's "I'm alright" message.  I remained standing there staring without movement.  A couple more minutes later she chewed the grass that she had been enjoying prior to my startling arrival.   A couple more minutes passed and a overwhelming sense of relief engulfed me.  All of a sudden my anthropegenic troubles of the daily grind in town passed over.  I was back in the world that I feel most comfortable.  A place were time, gravity, temperature and choas reign supreme.  This world makes sense to me. 

Back at home in front of the stove something curious falls from the sky.  I'm not entirely sure what this form of precipitation is.  Small, condensed balls of sleet?  Snow?  A little cold rain?  It's spring?