We knew the storm was coming and wondered how their fragile bodies would survive. Were there any still alive in these frigid 3 degree temps? Topping off the bird feeders, we later fell asleep to the hush of heavy snowfall then awoke the next morning to more of the same — nearly a foot of snow and more still falling.
A flurry of birds lined up on the tarmac of tree branches, each waiting their turn for food — the mysterious cardinal whose been pecking at the windows for a year, the usual tiny chickadees, a tufted titmouse or two, and a pudgy new family thought to be dark-eyed juncos (although they may have been plump simply to stay warm).
The feeder was nearly empty by noon…
…but my heart overflowed with gratitude
for taking time to care.