Blobs of Spring

All meaning changes form.
The light becomes a name
For what the eye can know,
Not ever twice the same,

Till, querulous, the ear
Can understand the swell
Of silence, and the words,
Like patterns in a shell,

Describe the music caught
In vivid emblem there:
Sounds, sounds create the world
In jubilees of air.


from The Words, by Samuel French Morse


A new spring visitor has appeared in the last couple of days. This morning, while heading off to work, it occurred to me that the noise I was hearing off in the field was probably a killdeer. I cannot recall ever seeing one near the house in all the time we have lived here, but sure enough, walking down the driveway tonight there it was, flying away across the field. At the moment there only appears to be one, but it would be nice if a couple settled down and had some chicks in the field this year.

Other than that, it was surprisingly quiet this evening, and in the stillness I could hear a faint gurgling noise with a bright, cheerful ring. Turns out it was coming from water running through one of the culverts and under the ice. Not such a pretty scene overall, but the trickle was making bubbles in the water that caught my eye as they floated away. Fortunately I did not strain a ligament straddling the culvert and trying to get low enough to take a photo. I should have had my new selfie stick!

Now that it's dark the saw whet owl is at it again. With the window closed you might think your ear is just ringing. Except it keeps ringing and ringing and ringing. Then, cracking the window, you realize it is indeed your little friend off in the trees hooting away. Next will come frogs, and eventually crickets, but for now that saw whet owl has the upper registers all to itself.