New Year, New Blog

My blogging up until now has consisted of politics and irritants. With a new year the time seemed appripo for setting hands to keyboard to venture down a new road. So, this blog will be about the journey of home and hearth.

Each morning, as I stand at the kitchen sink gazing out the window, I'm greeted by a delight to the senses. No houses, no telephone lines, no people. The fog trailing through trees -- the all akilter Gray pine, tall majestic Doug fir, stately black oak, ancient white oak and a few surviving Ponderosa pines. This is the time of day that the wild turkeys like to wander across from the uncleared brush next door. In the spring I watch them scurry down our road to the lower three acres, poults in tow. We have a young jay who has learned to mimic a hawk. I think he has a wicked sense of humor as the only time he seems to use this talent is when the turkey hen is supervising her young. He cries and the poults rush for cover. I'm sure I've seen him laughing.

Just beyond the pine in the center of the picture are our two creeks whose names would seem to have been predestined -- Barker Creek and Little Barker Creek. Of course, the irony of it all would escape those who have never owned a hound. Or, for that matter, an AmStaff with an identity crisis who thinks she's a hound. An introduction to "the girls" will have to wait for another day.