I have seen a lot of wildlife while tootling around on my bike during this craptastic month (you have two weeks to turn it around, April. I have my eye on you). For one thing, there is a wee flock of turkeys hanging around by the river road, walking and hopping around prehistorically, displaying their full fanned out tails (the dude turkey, anyway), and serenely disrupting traffic. They actually walked right up to the window next to my staff meeting a week or two ago, fixing us with their dinosaur eyes.
So that's fun. I had my first heron sighting last Tuesday, but I was in the car at the time. Still, my heart skipped a beat. I love seeing them; I don't know why. Don't be surprised if I show up with a heron tattoo one of these days. Anyway, I'd been watching for their return and hoping to see them on the lake rather than just flying over the highway. I finally caught up with one on last night's late, dark, cold, wonderful ride. It was standing at the water's edge, hunched up and sleeping. I spied on it from the footbridge. Next to the heron, two beavers cruised around in the open water and one slapped a warning at me. They waddled up to the shore and chattered, or maybe scolded me.
The night before last, I saw two foxes romping in the snow next to the next lake over, which was as magical as it sounds. One thing I will say for the (stupid, relentless) snow and (depressing) overcast sky: it is very easy to glimpse the critters silhouetted against them. And then I feel uplifted, and unconcerned about the weather, at least for a half hour or so. Lone geese honk gently in the dark. The ducks quack in the creek, like cartoon ducks, or parodies of ducks. Little by little, the water overtakes the ice.