Snow Going
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!
"Rata tattattattattattat..."
...Followed by snow blanketed silence.
"Rata tat...tat...tattattat.....................................tat."
It sounds like he's mocking my typing.
"Rata..."
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.
"Rata TATTAT...TAT...tat?"
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.
