This morning a cat - bright orange - pawing at the one patch of new grass in the sand-and tanbark-colored leaves. And last night the sapphire of the raccoon's eyes in the beam of the flashlight. He was climbing a tree beside the house, trying to get onto the porch, I think, for a wad of oatmeal Simmered in cider from the bottom of the pan we'd left out for the birds.
And earlier a burnished, somewhat dazed woodchuck, his coat gleaming with spring, Loping toward his burrow in the roots of a tree among the drying winter's litter Of old leaves on the floor of the woods, when I went out to get the New York Times.
And male cardinals were whistling back and forth - sireeep, sreeep, sreeep - Sets of three sweet full notes, weaving into and out of each other like the triplet rhymes in medieval poetry, And the higher, purer notes of the tufted titmice among them, High in the trees where they were catching what they could of the early sun.
Document URL: http://www.english.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88/haas-hass.html
Last modified: Wednesday, 18-Jul-2007 16:26:10 EDT