This was a filler day. A day existing just to connect all the other days. It just had to be. My attendance was really not required. And had I known that, I'd have Rip Van Winkled it into the next day...which does require my presence at the doctor's office. Anemia strikes again. Having one tell you that your blood count is low is not at all the same as experiencing the effects ahead of time so you just know. And you'd wondered why you were FREEZING even under the covers. There's something about not having enough blood that makes one's limbs and bony areas go numb, and a dark insatiable sleepiness falls. When I'm not lying down, I'm pacing the rooms weighed down with some un-namable burden.

I hate feeling this way. It's not the sort of self-indulgent little mini depression you want to feed and enjoy...hermitting away by choice watching idiotic tv shows or music videos back-to-back as your answering machine picks up the slack...you there with one leg hiked up over the back of the sofa, popcorn dropping here and there...every time the phone rings you think "f--k you--go away" getting up to double-check that your shades are securely in place should someone knock...your feral hair startles your own self if you happen by a mirror...great big cozy hunting socks flap-n-slap softly at the floor in front of you off the ends of your toes Dr. Suess style but who's gonna see you in your underwear and long flannel shirt? Nope. That's not the kinda depression I mean. It's more Poe-ish. If I start describing it, it might get worse so let's see...what birds DID I see when I went out yesterday, Nants wants to know. Hmm.

Started off seeing tons-n-tons of coots intermingling with Canvasbacks, Redheads, and Mallards. I saw Mallards doing that head-bobbing dancey mating thing so breathtaking. Coots were playful per usual busy-bodying around numerous as a resort area. Out at the edge they took turns diving beneath the ice, coming up with minnows. But they made it look like sooooo much fun (as if their little body shapes and movement were not already comical enough to begin with.) It's hard to take your eyes off of ducks! Those metallic colors, startling and clear, are divided off severely as a paint-by-number. Striking, eye-pleasing contrast. Scores of Mallards bask in sunshine on orange crayola legs... deep-green, sheeny heads partially hidden neath wings...shy eyes peep out like an Arabian harem on ice. A ways off, Canvasbacks dip, bottoms up...pearly iridescent sides a snowblind white as they turn radiating back the sun, so that rusty color I've never liked anywhere else is instantly showcase material on those heads. Exquisite.

A once over before I left that mostly frozen lake made me think of a garden...an icy white, shimmering garden loaded with feathery flowers...all those bottoms up, multi-colored feather bouquets everywhere. Birds of a feather had MOSTLY stuck together in cliques.

Later on, there were Sparrow hawks (lots of em) and they really look too sweet to be considered birds of prey. Many Red-tails hung out in trees or perched on field-side posts taking in sunshine like the rest of us. But not together. They are individually wrapped candies and as such, spread themselves out. Almost each one I watched eventually took flight so I got to see the dramatic wing-span opening which many birds can't pull off impressively...they then glide with dignity into a slow, aggressive 'fear this' posture. Unforgettable departing moxy.

Aside from these I saw mourning doves, sparrows, finches, a red-headed woodpecker, cardinals, crows, and my much beloved chickadees. Watching a chickadee from about a foot and a half away, my low spirits did a get a little start of electricity. The little sweetie angel-hearted bird, incessantly cheerful and perky was so vibrant and excited. The colorings of its feathers satisfied and soothed. I didn't want to have to blink and miss one moment's worth of seeing. What does this tiny bird find so exhilarating, so worthy of that little song, that little flickering of tail, that little weavy frolic of hide and seek with friends in the bushes. I want to feel that way again. Something passes between us. As I feed on watching them something is added to me...a measure of joy...peace. A mystery. And I remember why I ventured out to begin with.