This Monday I'm up in the Catskills.
The virgin snow is being worn by the pines. They look like very ladylike octopodes, offering us their branches clad in white gloves.*
Save now, I'm hard at work. I've got comedy writing deadlines as well as a shiny new corporate copywriting gig. With all sincerity and little modesty, hooray and hoorah for me! I love being as busy and employed as possible. The more work I do, the more I'm able to get done. It's very much like exercising a muscle and comes with the high of accomplishment, if not the endorphins.
I am trying to write a particularly sticky tricky bit. It comes in fits and starts. Suddenly, I hear a woodpecker going to town on a dead tree.
"tat tat tat tat."
It's so charming I could faint. A woodpecker! Right outside my window!
...Followed by snow blanketed silence.
It sounds like he's mocking my typing.
He's stopped. Why? Whatever. He's finally stopp --
"Rata. Rat. Rat. Rata. Rat. Rat."
Sounds like he's tuning up, with an avian Me May Mah Mo Moo.
"Rata TATTATTATTATTATTATTATTATTAT. RATTATATTATTAT!"
Nature is beautiful -
"Tatta ATTICA ATTICA ATTICA!"
But I'm starting to think it should be seen and not heard.
I want to ring the neck of my little feathered foe until his eyes bug out & his crown is red for an entirely different reason.
"Rat...ah... Oh, almost spaced, got a 4 o'clock with Woody and his people. TAT, er, I mean, ta ta, darling!"
*Octopodes? Well saying "octopuses" makes me feel like an octo-pussy, and not the cool James Bond kind at that.