OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- January noon
- Primary sources
- Nuthatch
- Haustorial
- Walking the line
- Gospel
- Wildstyle
- Close to home
- Lay of the land
- Primary school
- Subnivean
- Secondary school
- Rabid
- Snow plow
- Breaking through
- Miner
- Bark Ode
- Snowfall
- Pastoral
- Sledding
- Valentine’s Day dreams
- Rabbit
- Deep snow
- Head cold
- Snow follies
- Thaw
- Reanimation
- Old snow
- Clearing
- Burning the tissues
- Filmstrip
- How to tell the woodpeckers
- Opening
- Winterkill
- Winter sky, age 5
- Downsizing
- Winter gardener
- March
- Vessels
- Grand jeté
- Threnody
- Evergreens
- Slush
- Out
- Snowmelt
- Emergence
- In place
- Cold Front
- The death of winter
- Salt
- Harbingers
- Wintergreen
- Evolution
- Camouflage
- Spruce grove
- Waiting to launch
- Tintype
- Terminology
- In good light
- Reach
- Old field
- Rain date
- Onion snow
- Rite of spring
- Searchers
- Migrants
- Camberwell Beauty
- Lotic
- Empty
- Walking onions
- Trailing arbutus
- Makeshift
- Risen
- Remnant
- Sleight-of-hand
A four-pronged twig tumbled by wind
has left the oddest tracks
in the snow, no two alike.
The fox, by contrast,
has walked more than a mile
in her own, earlier footprints,
leaving a single set
of blurred tracks with toes
pointing in both directions.
This is lovely! The vixen’s economy of effort reminds me of the page in the carol, following the footsteps of Good King Wenceslas. Good wishes on your Saint’s day …
Oh, thank you! You know, “vixen” is a word we really don’t use enough on this side of the pond. (Nor, sadly, do we celebrate St. David’s Day with anything like the pomp it clearly deserves. :)