the Dec. garden more moss than grass under bare trees, bushes now greys on green the damp leaves raked, microscopic rain borne growth feeds the few scurrying squirrels while sparrows feed in muddy puddles, today a wood pecker shows up, i know my woodpeckers, his casual intermittent echoing sound announcing down my steel chimney flue, i look out to see today he has brought a mate. the stray white cat shows up again comfortable at the top moss covered cement layer of the cascading fountain, as the garden like the rest of the earth and fields, in this volcanic valley goes into hibernation
