Migration

Here in the "north", the ducks, geese and hawks are moving into and through the area. We have had warm days of sunshine which tantalize our senses into thinking spring is here. But then, the very next day, the temperatures have dropped, the air is crisp and we are made to realize that it too soon, too early. It is not yet time to start our migrations to III.

I am restless and yearn for the outdoors, the timber and the creatures of the fields. I take Mom on long drives on the back roads, into the hills and crooked roads of southern Iowa, looking for areas that remind me of III. When it is dry, we take the low maintenance roads where the trees are apt to meet over head, where long abandoned barns have been brought to their knees, where the roads go up hill and down vale and follow the natural curvature of the earth.

Our inner clocks tells us that soon it will be time to go south. . . . the other side