Another rainy morning on the prairie. Birds don't seem to mind. They flit around the trees in front of the house, land in the tall grass (yes, we need to mow, but the rains keep the buzzing lawn mowers in the shed) and mutter around after the ticks, worms, and other insects that infest this green green wonderland.
I do wish the sun would return, however. After forty years in Southern California I admit to being a sunny day advocate. The clouds and the winds should dissipate soon. I mean how long can overcast continue without a water source close by.
Oh! Slough, you say. To be sure what was frozen when we departed North Dakota for warmer environs in late January has metamorphosed into a magnificent white capped lake on which mallards and wood ducks bob in the small maelstrom of wave action. New fellows have arrived. Gots to go up to my office and check out the bird book to identify.
Life is good in Frackleton this morning. So, well watered and happy to be returned, I sign off for the moment.