Yesterday on our walk the trail was, in many places, that kind of great mud you could have found on the school grounds in my day, the kind that “schluppped!” your shoes right down into it during recess. When the teacher became aware of your muddy feet, chances were you’d be forced to stay inside on the next recess (“Don’t you know enough to stay out of the mud?” “I wasn’t aware it was mud. It looked like dirt.” “Well, you can copy this page out of the dictionary!”).
But yesterday, knowing that between me and the car was snow, it was fun trying to find dry-ish footing.
Near the end of the walk, I heard a clamor in the sky. I had gone out there with the dogs partly hoping to see Sandhill Cranes, but this was a very beautiful flock of Canadian geese. Flying in front of them, but on a different trajectory, was a bald eagle — the first one I’ve seen here. The Rio Grande is flowing again so the fishing is probably good.
I would not have seen the eagle if I had not been paying attention to sounds in the sky.