Tuesday, September 13, 2011

FOG AND WAXWINGS



A gauze of diaphanous fog hangs over the cottage pool this morning, softening the light, blurring the edges of distant objects. In what might be a natural paradox, the illumination seems both muted and more luminous, a silvery incandescence, glowing quietly, making the familiar island twenty yards away seem deliciously mysterious. From the island's downstream end comes the quick loud yelps of a pileated woodpecker, sounding a bit on the frantically manic side.

Though the sun hasn't yet cleared the tops of the sycamores along the river's eastern banks, the cedar waxwings are already busy swooping and diving over the water, working the moist air like flycatchers. There must be a dozen of them taking turns at whatever insects are available. Such behavior on the part of the waxwings is always a sure indicator that summer is drawing to a close. Between flights, the sleek waxwings with their yellow-tipped tails—as if the very ends of the feathers had been recently dipped in a bucket of paint—rest on an outmost limb of a streamside hackberry, box elder, or sycamore—watching, waiting, until time for their next swift flight. 

A couple hours from now, I have to take Myladylove to the hospital for a bit of minor outpatient surgery. A short trip, since, as the crow flies, the hospital is no more 1500–2000 yards from here…across the stream, across a wide expanse of parkland, up a hill, and at the far side of a parking lot beyond. Close, yet except for a bit of distant tile rooftop we can just glimpse when the leaves are gone, you'd never guess such a facility was nearby. Of course we'll have to drive downstream to the bridge, then back up the highway on the other side; three minutes door-to-door.

The rest of the afternoon will be spent taking care of my recovering "patient." Which comes down to feeding her whatever she feels like eating, letting her sleep as much as she wants, and putting her in full charge of the TV remote. Moon-the-Dog will do her part, too…though I'll probably have to referee a disagreement or two between them over what programs to watch.
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6 comments:

Gail said...

HI GRIZZ - oh suc a lovely morning, mysterious, faded almost as the details are soft and blended. I feel comfy in such a view. I hope all goes well for your Lady-Love today. She is certainly in good hands with you at home recovering. And Moon too. :-)
Love to you and yours
Gail
peace.....

Bonnie said...

Hope all goes well and that her recovery is complete and speedy.

Grizz………… said...

Gail…

Thank you…i figured you'd like the fog and all.

My "patient" is more-or-less awake, and just had a bowl of the veggie soup I made this afternoon. Moon and I just came back in after walking up to get the mail and pausing to chat with a couple of my excellent neighbors. They say it may get down into the upper-30˚F tomorrow night; right now, even this late, it's 80˚F here.

Grizz………… said...

Bonnie…

Thank you for thinking of us—everything went well and Myladylove is doing fine. She has a follow-up appointment in about a month and some meds to take for a while. Otherwise, we're good.

The Weaver of Grass said...

Hope everything turns out well with the operation Grizz. Give her my best wishes.
fog has not descended here in the UK yet as we are still suffering from the end of Hurrican Katya - but I rather like the misty Autumn mornings.

Grizz………… said...

Weaver…

Providing the test results come back okay, everything is fine. She's back at work today, I'm at my desk having just finished a column. I'll give her your message—and from both of us, thank you.

It's cloudy here today, the temperature dropping with a chance of showers later. Except that the riverside is still green, you could think we were already on the waning side of the equinox.