Yesterday a phoebe was checking out our woodshed. I heard his emphatic little song in the morning and then again in the evening. Bird song has settled down during the day, and the forest was quiet a few days ago when I grabbed my camera for a walk along the stream. Bird noises broke out erratically, calls and chipping. Snow lay everywhere, clinging to form under the bright sun. Water lay placid in the stream, with accents and edgings of ice. A bit of debris on my hat revealed itself to be a small, slow-moving insect with long wings.

We’re moving into the time of year when I step carefully in the forest. Perennial plants are emerging from their safe coverings of dirt, leaves, and snow. Skunk cabbage flowers* lined the stream where they were easy to spot. Others poked through moss and leaf litter, camouflaged until I was almost upon them. Once noticed, they gave a whimsy to the stream floodplain as colorful gnome hats which twisted and bowed. Their hues ranged from lemon yellow to wine red. They’re all so unique that I couldn’t bear to accidentally crush even one, which is not a sentiment shared by nature nor humanity in general.

*The structures are modified leaves with the actual flower head forming a ball within the hood.








Exposed flower head.