Quickening Of The Water’s Music

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Leslie Rego, “From my Sketchbook, Gestural Drawings of Geese,” pencil and colored pencil, laid paper.

BY LESLIE REGO

Leslie Rego, “From my Sketchbook, Gestural Drawings of Geese,” pencil and colored pencil, laid paper.

We do not tend to detect the longer days in the springtime until there has been enough accumulation of light to tweak our awareness. But the creeks and streams notice. The water runs more quickly. The trickling sounds become louder from the lingering snowbanks that melt and are washed downstream. Snow that once sat in silence under the overhanging trees now becomes part of the river’s music. Glacial shelves of snow and ice melt away, showing the striations of various winter storms. The wind-blown debris is captured throughout the many layers, creating a fossilized record of the past months.

Along with the quickening of the water’s music comes the return of the Canada geese. Most of us recognize the birds, but as often happens when something is so familiar, few of us spend much time observing them. It is so easy to pass over the ubiquitous. One looks at the bird and thinks, “Oh, those are Canada geese!” and thus they do not receive another thought. But if you really study the antics of the geese, they are quite charming. Their cumbersome walk is top-heavy. The legs appear as if they should not be able to support the large body. Speed is difficult. The bobbles and waddles of their land motions make for fun gestural drawings.

Canada geese have extended necks so they can tip over and search for food in the water. If a goose is hissing, bobbing its head, or swinging its neck from side to side, the bird is feeling threatened. But the bird can also swivel its neck up and over the back to tuck it into the upper part of the wing. This is a position the goose takes while sleeping, as do most other species of ducks and geese. I often wonder how the birds find this configuration remotely comfortable. Even if anatomically possible, I question if I would want to swivel my head and tuck it between my shoulder blades to sleep!

The music of the water is quickening. Winter is shifting to spring, although the transition moves slowly in the mountains. It is as though we can hear each individual snowflake melt, until eventually we arrive to the very last one.

Leslie Rego is an Idaho Press Club award-winning columnist, artist and Blaine County resident. To view more of Rego’s art, visit leslierego.com.