Story-telling is subject to two unavoidable defects—
frequent repetition and being soon exhausted;
so that whoever values this gift in himself,
has need of a good memory,
and ought frequently to shift his company.
The snow was coming down rather heavily. It was beautiful. There is nothing more beautiful to me than to see the farm covered in a fresh coat of white. It makes everything look so clean and new.
My Hero was in the tractor Saturday afternoon. He had just finished giving the cows their hay back in the bush. We did know that the weather was to change, and we wanted to be prepared and make sure all the animals were comfortable. It was warmer out than it had been in a few days but there was a forecast for freezing rain, and our temperatures were to plummet for Sunday night. The melt of the snow and then a quick freeze have never been a nice combination to deal with on the farm.
While I watched My Hero, make his way up the lane I was hypnotized by the contrast of the red tractor on the pure white snow. I snapped away with my camera. Suddenly, I was distracted by a most unusual sight. It was taking place on top of the barn roof. I had to look twice to figure out what was going on. I pointed my camera at the barn and focused on the activity taking place.
Yes, it was true. My eyes were not deceiving me. There was a gigantic raven circling around the roof vent. I have always loved the look of those old roof vents. I must admit I was a little perturbed at that big old beautiful raven. He and his friends had ripped my garbage apart, in front of my house on garbage day. The only thing they dragged far away was a plastic broken hanger, with two metal clips attached. I know they love shiny things but there was no way possible they could have seen through that black bag. I thought it was weird but they are supposed to be clever, so it still has me wonder.
Anyway, back to my story.
This beautiful shimmering black raven circled in unison with the swirling snowflakes around that vent. He seemed very interested in something. He swooped down then soared back up in the air. It was like I was watching a graceful, perfectly choreographed dance on stage, but this was in the sky. I began to forgive this beautiful creature for the garbage incident and enjoy his entertainment. My eyes were fixated on the barn roof. I was mesmerized by this dance, meaning, the rest of my farm view disappeared in my eyes.
Then the raven landed. Questions popped into my head. What was he up to? Did he finally see what he wanted? Was it another shiny thing, like a screw that had popped out of the roof? After all, the thought of those metal clips on that hanger from my garbage was still on my mind.
Then it happened. This beautiful raven started to roll around in the deep fresh fallen snow on top of the barn. He was taking a snow bath. “Snow kidding.” He was there for about fifteen minutes and he sure enjoyed his time on that roof. Oh, what a beautiful sight.
This proved to me that you just never know when a mediocre story will land in your lap, or in this case, on your barn roof.