Ron Moss – Feminism and Religion

A requiem for the seasons is an act of living remembrance for what is vanishing, be that long-cherished seasonal moments, forms of celebration that once tied us to nature’s cycles, and to more than human species – some that are going extinct.

Cheeping twittering birds awakened me at dawn. The first snow of the season cast a spell over the landscape last night and this generous dusting brought in the wild turkeys… I wished all good morning as I scattered seed under the crabapple. A couple of very friendly individuals followed me back to the door. My little dog Coalie is spellbound. She loves these birds.

I noted turkey hieroglyphics on the doormat as I came in but otherwise took no pleasure from the white shrouded landscape. I used to love snow but because each of the seasons is warming, we are getting mixed precipitation on a regular basis beginning in mid – November. The first snow opens an icy door to winters that are dominated by continuous freeze thaws. Last year I considered myself fortunate to have been able to snowshoe as long as I did.