A Granddaughter's Snowy Owl (poem)
A Granddaughter's Snowy Owl
In search of an obscure little ski area,
we drove along a snowy road on a dark
ridgeline in the Catskill Mountains where
snow fell constantly from gray-black skies,
as the wind blew swirling drifts above our
car wheels that made it hard to turn.
We found nothing but deep dark woods.
"Are we lost without a map," our little
Clare asked with a frown on her face.
"Not yet, not yet," we all responded.
At last we came upon a crossroad and
there we saw a sign for distant Albany,
and Clare shouted, "Look, a snowy owl!"
Sure enough a large white owl with bright
yellow eyes stared down at us from a pole,
seemingly questioning our wisdom of being in
such a place far from the rest of the human race.
Clare usually isn't very noticing of natural phenomena, but she sure was on target that day of the snowy owl! JUst a few weeks ago she noticed a pocket gopher burrying under a picnic table near Estes Park, Colorado.