Nature was all talk and no show yesterday. The weatherman promised rain, the cloud cover promised rain, and nothing happened. It was as disappointing as Peyton Manning's performance in the Super Bowl. I was rooting for the Seahawks but expected more from the Broncos. It would have been a perfect day for rain. Tucked inside with the fire going and plans for corned beef hash for dinner, "the" football game of the season to watch, wind whipping and grey skies, and not one drop of rain fell.
I often wonder who is training whom here, and I'm not sure the animals haven't gotten the upper hand (paw, hoof, claw). For the past week or so, every morning I've found one small mouse in the barrel of chicken feed. I think it is the same mouse each day. At first, Mouse would race in circles and try to leap out as I trapped it in a small bucket, lifting it out and setting it free. As time went on, Mouse began to sit quietly and wait for the "elevator" to freedom when I lift the lid. Now we've got the system down pat and it's part of my morning routine.
And then there are the turkeys who come in droves for me to put down their breakfast. They know when I step out for a walkabout, the wait won't be long and they begin to congregate under the oak. Not satisfied with the birdseed, they are moving in on the chickens. I must throw down double helpings of scratch if the hens are to get any. The roosters, those manly protectors of the flock, turn away and ignore the intruders, leaving the hens to fluff up and charge. The turkeys snicker and continue to feed as the pint-size munchkins attempt to guard their territory. Those turkeys have my number, too.
Lowering skies this morning again carry the promise of rain. We'll see if Nature is as good as her word today.