I'm woolen hat deaf?

The sun is a bright light this day, the sky blue with the pheobes outside singing. And so perfect time to take two crazy goldens out for walk. I say walk, when I recognize that my Emmie walks lovely on a leash while Rory wants to romp through the snow as he tugs ne along, his leash frimly ensconced in his mouth. In any case, it's a wonderful chance to see the leaf buds on trees upclose while enjoying some sunshine on my face. As close to a January thaw as we are apparently going to get the year and so we venture off to enjoy the day.

We're rounding the bend on the mansion grounds, coming out of the woods when I hear a jogger, pounding the road as he runs. I look around and see nothing of the sort. Then I think perhaps there is workman nearby, putting up a sign, fixing a fence, as I hear the 'knock, knock, knock.' Again there is no sign of man with hammer. However as I stare high up in the trees I spot the only colour in the woods a piliated woodpecker reeking destruction on an old stately oak. How could I have not recognized that sound? I thought. I stop for a moment and watch as the large bird pecks away at the tree, pieces of bark flying. And then I think, it's the hat, the woolen hat that is muffling the sounds of nature on this January day. And I begin to dream of spring when hats will be off, buds will start to open and nature's sounds will once again be recognizable.