The air hung heavy, strangely moist for a
desert prairie. Dense fog as rare as raindrops.
The ice on the pond began to sweat; it’s been
frozen silent for months but slowly water eased
at the shore, the weathered gray ice giving way
to a fresh surface to mirror the sky, signaling birds
they are welcome back. The air filled with traffic;
honking geese stake out shore rest, the Mallards
quacking just behind. Meadowlark songs from
fence posts loud enough to wake the hibernating
grasses and make trees shiver down to their twigs.
Just when the fallow pasture seemed to have given
up hope and the monotony of winter had worn
tired ruts in the most stoic of hearts, improbable
but right on schedule, the pond screeched and
squawked back to life, newfangled and miraculous.
Anna Blake for Relaxed & Forward
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