By Nellie Curtiss …
In the evenings now on my itty-bitty deck, I noticed I needed a sweater as the sun dropped on the horizon and the moon woke up. Neighbors had their grills steaming too—it smelled a lot like hamburgers and steaks, to me.
Earlier, I drove through the DQ drive-up for a fresh burger, pop, and ice cream cone. I like to treat myself to soft serve ice cream like my aunt and mama would do for my sister and me way back when telephones were black, and Curley cones were a nickel.
So, with cone in hand, I drove out to the Monte Vista Wildlife Refuge. Schroeder eyed my cone until he earned the last bite. The temperature outside registered 64, as I turned the air conditioner on to relieve the settled air inside the cab.
Some fall colors graced Broadway as we left town; I even eyed a gold tree snug against a faraway farmhouse. Plump like a plum, it stood out against the fir trees next to the house beside the barn.
Just yesterday, I heard a flock of sandhill cranes overhead and looked up to see the V-shape formation against the cobalt blue sky. Remembering this sighting, I drove closer to the wildlife refuge.
The auto tour through the refuge had autumn colors spread throughout the tall grasses and cattails around the water ways. Ducks of all sizes swam about as black birds held fast to the cat-tail heads. As the foliage swayed a bit with the weight of a bird, the skies were quiet and showed no clue of the crane migration.
A lonely fly intruded into the car through the passenger window that I rolled down in order to zoom in on a shot. My smart phone automatically added this one and about five others to my picture album in the iCloud. I had looked for the image with the mountain and farm in the backdrop and the grassy-lined canal in the forefront.
The ducks were too far away for me to identify. Smaller ones paddled in close proximity to the larger adult-size ducks. They lined up so that each feathered creature had its own safe harbor against the distant bank and reeds. I was struck by the green lengths of color hanging on even as the tall grass stalk had changed to brown and amber. A slight breeze shuffled, and they all fingered the air as the wind passed through.
My dog eyed the red winged black bird, but it fluttered away out of sight. I drove on and the tires of my compact car crunched the dirt and gravel. Oddly, we passed only one other vehicle in our afternoon tour – a black SUV was parked in the first pull out. As we exited the park, no vehicles slowed our entry onto Highway 15 and we headed back to the house, a block from DQ.
It was suppertime for my dog, and he knew it as he bee-lined to the kitchen for his meal. He waited as I loaded his bowl and placed it for him to scarf up. I barely sat down when he appeared, prim and proper waiting for something. “Oh,” I said out loud to him, “You want your Dreambone.” He took the snack gingerly from my fingers and chewed a safe distance from me.
I headed outback to freshen the cat bowls as the community cats like Rupurrt, Loopie-Lou, Whiney Winnie, Roo-Roo, Harley, and Punky assembled. Opening a fresh can of Friskies, I noticed white-haired Punky slipped up on the railing first. She meowed to make sure I knew she was hungry for her supper.
The air cooled as the night sky chased the sun; the Aspens shadowed each other in the backyard, and the neighbor’s German Shepherd thumped against the wooden fence to say “Hi.”
— Nelda Curtiss is a retired college educator and long-time local columnist. Reach her at http://www.columnsbynellie.com or email her at columnsbynellie@columnsbynellie
Photo cutline: Monte Vista wildlife refuge is cooler these days but still worthy of our appreciation.
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