not a good day
to be a bird

This was yesterday morning, and the blizzard had just started.

And a blizzard it was, nothing pretty about this storm, no gently falling snow, no winter wonderland, just crazy blasting wind, hard white pellets, dropping temperatures.

This morning it’s nine degrees. And this window feeder is buried in snow. This little chickadee was the last bird I saw there yesterday. After that, I hope he found a bit of shelter. Along with all his friends.

Later this morning, I’ll have to go out and start the clean up process, digging out, shoveling, clearing snow off the roof, which was already leaking when I got up. But first, I’ll feed the birds, the feathered warriors of winter. And I’ll tell them that tomorrow, it’s supposed to be in the high 40s again.

I’ll tell them that spring is working its way here, albeit slowly.

Hang on, Mr. Chickadee, hang on.

Mama’s coming.

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to be a bird”

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