Little Tattetales


Hoar frost still decorated most of the muskeg meadow when we approached the beach. But it softened into dew the instant sunlight stuck it.

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Aki usually manages to break out of the woods first. But this morning she hangs back. Through a small opening in the forest wall I spot a Stellar’s jay hunting for scraps left by kids at a recent picnic party.  It flies off when it notices the little dog and I, warning the beach of our approach with a harsh squawk.

That little tattetale!

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Aki ignores the interfering bird like she did the varied thrush that rested on a sunny spot on the forest floor as we rounded the beaver pond. It also squawked as it flew off. I wished it a good winter, even though it sent a mix flock of thrush and robins into hiding with its warning.  If it survives the thrush will confirm the arrival of next spring with its blurry song.

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