Poetry Of Spirit And Light: Air Hoar And Snow Melt Poetry

Our 56°F afternoon heatwave feels incredibly pleasant in light of yesterday’s ashen skies and 26°F daytime deep freeze. Let’s backtrack for a few minutes to Cooper’s and my early morning prairie escapades in 26°F temperatures. The enticing blue canopy stretched from horizon to horizon belies the discomfort of wind chills borne on vigorous westerly winds. We look to the sun for warmth and realize the dazzling orb wanting in expected comfort.

Cooper and I slip into the prairie with eager anticipation of snowy exploits. In the blink of an eye my displeasure with winter chills gives way to a state of enchantment. The prairie abounds with a gathering of white-haired prairie elders. The splendor of their silvery manes invites kinship with prairie mysteries. I oblige willingly. Hushed discourse about their razzle-dazzle locks turns into a passionate celebration of air hoar allure and artistry. Within the hour the fleeting glitz of hoarfrost blooms bows to the sun’s zeal.

We continue our traverse of the sparse snow cover. As air temperatures rise, glimpses of a quickening prairie heart beat emerge. The snow blanket of our recent arctic blast surrenders its precious liquid to the moisture-starved soil. Snow melt activates ankle-deep mud creating red dirt spurs in the snow. Images of weaving river delta channels come to mind. The golden elegance of prairie berries adds splashes of color. Broom Snakeweed in winter trappings parades among residual snow cover. A Northern Harrier flies purposeful hunting patterns. At times the raptor seems to tag-team with Cooper. He expects to surprise prey Cooper rousts. As I thread my way down game trails, I unexpectedly come across a Western Harvest Mouse. What is this tiny critter doing out on the snow? Hastily I fumble my camera into shooting position. The mouse disappears in bunch grasses. I settle for a photo of its tracks.

I turn homeward, exhilarated by my communion on the wild side with replenished reserves of sustenance for heart and soul. Prairie poetry never fails to inspire.

© Ilija Lukić 2012