Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
Even with four good layers piled on this morning, the west wind knifed through me. But this weather sure appealed to the inner Lab of the meathead. He frolicked.
I don't even want to remember what it was like a year ago at this time.
With the howling wind, I did not expect to hear any robins or doves. But they were there. I could hear robins and see them hopping around yards.
The cooing of doves was more masked by the wind, but either doves are getting used to the morning ramble that Storm and I do or the wind made them less wary. We walked with two feet of one dove on the ground just before the town pond.
At the fire station, the flags were straight out, pointing east.
The thought came, cold as it was, at least we don't live in Minnesota.
I set the alarm to catch the Midwest weather round-up at 4:55 a.m. on WGN-AM, then the news. This morning Steve Bertrand did it in place of ``Big O'' Orion Samuelson and mentioned wind chills below -20 in Minnesota.
Minnesota can keep its winter. I am old enough not to give a rat's ass about machismo any more.
Despite the winter feel, plenty of red-winged blackbirds trilled on the north old clay pit.
The pair of Canada are still not on their nest on the island. They swam on the lee side of the island.
The ice shanty still floats on south end of the south pit. The oddity was skim ice reformed overnight on the southeast corner of the south pit. The ditch to the east was completely frozen.
Dawn came as we reached the edge of town. It was a stark image of a red ball rising in the high sky of winter.
The bank clock downtown read 22. Felt colder.
My face was a rigid mask by the time I reached home.
It is funny, when the weather is extreme, I don't mull things as much; the immediate takes precedence over the contemplative.