The common redpolls have found the common tansies. On a gray January day, where the meadow meets the field, these small finches feed on the minuscule seeds of the dried wildflower five months past its bloom of yellow buttons.
The redpolls balance on the flowerheads, now faded to olive-brown. Some of the birds are on the ground, in scant snow, pecking at tiny black seeds that have been shaken loose by the birds, or the wind, speckling the snow like a shake of pepper. Somewhat alarmed by my approach, the redpolls lift as one, whirl and wheel away, like my fleeting thoughts on a winter’s day.
But they whirl their way back, following their hunger in this last half of January. Perhaps not the last half of winter, but a milestone toward spring nonetheless. January is often too long, too cold, too burdensome.
I’ve tried to do more than just “hang in there” this month. I strive to stay upbeat and find the brights spots on cloudy days, some warmth through frigid waves, and a good trail to follow out of the wind in most my ways. I trace what January offers in the plus column.
It has worked, evidenced by the dizzying yet pleasing sight of hundreds of redpolls, with some other finch species probably interspersed, feeding and fleeing in the chilled air. I have looked up at a barred owl on silent watch for cottontails which should also be looking up. I have found melted ovals on matted leaves where deer curled with shelter at their backs and sunshine slanting from the south to warm their thick coats.
And yet, January is not conducive to stay and play all day. I return home to let the wood stove heat warm my feet in the calm of the late afternoon. No different than deer, I let the sun find me, the sun that will be hanging around 38 minutes longer by the end of January than on New Year’s Day; we’re making progress in the light department.
I also let the quiet of winter surround me, content in this state of repose and reflection, and clarity too, if we’re fortunate. Naturalist writer Annie Dillard observed, “I bloom indoors in the winter … I read and write, and things I have never understood become clear.”
It’s clear that January has its place. I just have to find the tiny seeds it feeds me before I wheel away, like the redpolls, to the next chapter of the season.
Note: Want to read more nature essays such as this? My book, “Soul of the Outdoors” is available through me at the special price of $18. For a personally-signed book, email davegreschner@icloud.com or text or call me at 715-651-1638. The book is also available at regular prices through online book sellers, and at Wisconsin bookstores in Rice Lake (Old Bookshop), Eau Claire (Dotters), Menomonie (Dragon Tail), Hudson (Chapter2Books), Spooner (Northwinds), Three Lakes (Mind Chimes), and Bayfield (Honest Dog), and in Duluth, Minn., at The Bookstore at Fitger’s.
Beautiful!