The other day I went to Five Rivers to do a Raptor count. Before the count started I had time for a walk around the Beaver Tree Trail. The pond was still frozen - the ice looked brindled in jade and black swirls. On the opposite side of the pond, the ice was white. I know I have read explanations of what makes the ice different colors, but right now it was enough to enjoy the creativity of colors moving in elegant frozen waves. Icicles hung from the spillway. Reaching down into the water flowing beneath them. The last vestiges of winter. Rushes were bent and broken by winter winds, snow, and ice. Soon, new growth would replace them. The earth was brown with ozzy mud. The kind that is just as slippery as ice. Hopeful trees were budded crimson against the sky. Willows flushed orange, so stark and striking. The sky was layered in soft blues, white and grey. Dampness seeped from the ground and folded around me. The Raptor count is a DEC project which counts the raptors seen on specific