The Hedgerow

IMG_2210 copyright of-the-essence blog 2020

Sunset, facing east, in winter

 

A hedgerow is a marvelous thing–the edges of a field. Remnants of this year’s rows of corn are visible through the gaps. At this moment, the hedgerow is still. Sunset dapples yellow on blue snow, like the summer glow fading on ocean sand.

The hedgerow’s few trees are weighted down by grapevine and other plants so that the far view has not been impinged by thick or tall trunks. Bushes create hiding places for year-round birds as well as travelers.

There is space inside this edge, the hedge-edge, as well as on both sides.

IMG_2504 copyright of-the-essence blog 2020

Staghorn sumac against the sky

Dark shadowed limbs create a picture frame for the world on the other side of the hedgerow. Deer travel the dawn field; wild turkeys jut heads and flash feathers at each other.  On this side, cars slide in and out; owners and dogs walk each other. Snowplows beep and scrape in the night and later, when day comes, the hedgerow’s birds flap to the feeders.

Which edges do you cherish? Which do you chafe against? What life can be found inside the edges?

 

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