Wildcat Creek Journal

This morning a thick frost covers the ground, and wild geese echo through the hollow with a resounding cadence, ushering in daylight and what warmth it will bring with it as they spiral downward into the slough among the standing dead of flooded timber. Up on higher ground, robins and warblers and sparrows fuss and scratch in the leaf litter beneath the beeches, red cedars, and buckthorns. A bright male cardinal scales the branches of a holly tree, plucking selectively the bright red fruit that nearly matches the bird's own scarlet plumage. High in the top of a white oak on the hillside, a pair of gray squirrels chase and tumble up and down limbs and tree trunks, launching their weightless bodies from tree to tree, running a maze of intertwined branches, until another one joins in, and yet another. Alas, the struggle ends in a deadlock, and each returns to their business, digging in the deep leaves on the side of the hill and grinding teeth on the steel hulls of hickory...

This morning I wake to the sound of birds outside the window. When the alarm went off at 5:30, I shut it off and rolled over, remembering this will be the last day I'll get to sleep in for a while. I had plans to get up and try to get some things done before my extended time off from work expired. But then, when have I ever managed my time well? So at 8 AM, I eased out of bed and got the coffee started, while looking out at the creek through the kitchen window to see if the water had cleared up any since the hard rain muddied it two days ago. The weather is mild today for January, and I would really like to try out a few new bass flies I tied this week when I should've been getting my punch list taken care of, checking off things left undone due to conflicts with my work schedule and family matters. When the coffee finished, I took out my journal, and filled a few pages with random thoughts, most incomplete and some downright nonsensical, until I had nothing else to...