The restoration of routine and order. How good it has been to waken to slow coffee, fresh baked scones (I love the recipe I’ve used for years) and a gentle snow covering the earth, just as it should at this time of year.
As I looked out on the woods that is bleached of color – only shades of gray, white and black, branches loaded with snow and the ground untouched by tracks for the moment, I didn’t expect my eye could espy anything unusual, but in the crook of a tree, not far down the ravine, was an unfamiliar round bump hunched up against the trunk.
A burl?
An owl!
One of God’s little hunters hiding in the storm, snow gathering on her head like a little cap. She sat for hours occasionally opening her eyes which caused the geometric shape of her face to emerge from camouflage – two circles and a triangle. If only I knew how to place a little white arrow on this photo to place her. But can you spot her sitting in the tree?
