Wild Life Near Home


It was a cold, desolate January day.

Scarcely a sprig of green showed in the wide landscape, except where the pines stood in a long blur against the gray sky.

There was not a sign that anything living remained in the snow-buried fields, nor in the empty woods, shivering and looking all the more uncovered and cold under their mantle of snow, until a solitary crow flapped heavily over toward the pines in search of an early bed for the night.

The bird reminded me that I, too, should be turning toward the pines; for the dull gray afternoon was thickening into night, and my bed lay beyond the woods, a long tramp through the snow.

As the black creature grew small in the distance and vanished among the trees, I felt a pang of pity for him. I knew by his flight that he was hungry and weary and cold.

Every labored stroke of his unsteady wings told of a long struggle with the winter death.

He was silent; and his muteness spoke the foreboding and dread with which he faced another bitter night in the pines….

Adventures with wildlife!

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