I saw a pair of sandhill cranes today, standing in the middle of a small ice-covered pond. They were looking skyward and calling their prehistoric call. Every time I hear one it sends shivers down my back. What are they saying? I think I know.
"Spring oh spring where art thou. Why are we here before thee?" At least that's what I think they were saying.
The Old Timer Says: "I met a fellow the other day who talked nonstop and didn't say a thing."
Reminder:The hardcover edition of IN A PICKLE: A FAMILY FARM STORY is about sold out. Stop by your bookstore, or order on line--you can order directly from my website.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment