In March it is mud, it is slush in December.
The midsummer breezes are loaded with dust.
In fall the leaves litter, in muddy September,
The wallpaper rots and the candlesticks rust.
Oh, life is a toil and love is a trouble.
Beauty will fade and riches will flee.
Pleasures they dwindle and prices they double,
And nothing is as I would wish it to be.
This was the view last week:
Mourning Doves huddled up in the cold and snow.
And yesterday this was the muddy view: 24 Turkeys on the lawn.
You know, I like wildlife. But I have to say, deer and turkeys in particular are cuter when they peek shyly out from the edge of the woods than when they take over the entire lawn like this.