The still waters of Muddlety Creek ebb slowly towards the river as the big blue truck creeps to a halt. The beautiful blue berries of the silky dogwoods are long gone and most of purple leaves have fallen among the reeds and rushes. Ever present is the Redwing Blackbird but his notes have no melody in the cool November air. He and his mate exchange simple chirps to keep tabs on each other when searching for the forage of late fall. They’re fortunate to have this place because all throughout the marshlands the swamp rose has offered her crimson yield. If not for the clear blue sky mirrored on the water the wetlands would have no colors to speak of until the new life wakes in Spring. The clusters of red berries dot the pale tan landscape anywhere they can have one foot in the water and the other on land. In brilliant pride the fresh fruits show themselves to birds in hopes of being deposited into unclaimed territory. Their efforts are not wasted. The birds return time and time again to carry off their tasty prize. With their bellies well fed the birds began to collect the soft down of the cattails and thicken their nest ahead of the deep cold that makes it’s way towards the highland marsh. As they settle in together I find that I am ready to move along myself. When I turn my back to return to my truck the male finds that he has one last song in his heart to bid me farewell. I pause to savor the moment and lock it away in my spirit to enjoy during the days of shadow that are coming. Moments of joy are easy enough to find if you look for them. It’s holding them that takes a little practice.
Good night friends and be blessed throughout your days.
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