The snow moans and groans and complains when you walk on it.
My favourite kind of art, that really touches my heart, is bird feet in the snow.
As we drove along in the school bus, beside the snow-covered fields, just before dawn; I was delighted to see a beautiful fox, bounding across the snow.
I pointed him out to the children, who were thrilled to see a fox for the first time.
It gave me great hope for the future; that children were still more excited to see a beautiful wild animal, than anything on social media.
It was a frigid Canadian morning, as I walked from the park along the Welland River to the bakery.
All of a sudden, I heard the familiar twittering of a robin. I looked to find him in a tree with shriveled-up crabapples, hoping to find lunch.
On my return walk; after purchasing strudel and a walnut roll; I saw a whole flock of them flying from one tree to the next.
December was so mild; but I bet they are regretting their decision to stay now. I don’t think it is an early return, as it surely doesn’t feel like spring.
I started my day with the news and thought how awful the world was; and then I went outside and saw the fluffy snow gently falling from the trees, the bright sunshine and the peacock blue sky.
I went inside my mother’s house and saw the chickadee busily darting back and forth from the evergreen tree to the freshly filled feeder. His attitude and behaviour made me happy and I thought how fearless and bright he made me feel.
A curious squirrel, in his winter sweater, with snow on his nose; hoping to catch a falling seed from the birds; peered in the living room window.
Note to self: turn away from the world of man and turn towards nature and then I will see a perfect winter day with all its beauty.
The female cardinal greeted me for the new year at the bird feeder on the window. Her beautiful orange beak stood out against her muted red and brown body.
Her crest stood up on her head. What did that mean? She enjoyed her seed and I enjoyed watching her.
She reminded me that, even though the day was foggy and dreary, and I was still coughing and tired, there is always beauty in nature to restore our joy and hope.
In the pre-dawn sky I saw hundreds of birds moving in a swarm; moving as one entity; as one gigantic undulating mass; as fish do in the sea for their own protection.
I don’t know what kind of birds they were, or why they were flying as a school of fish would; but I know that it was fascinating and mystical and as I continued to drive the school bus, I couldn’t get it out of my mind.
The eastern December sky caught fire this morning. As my boots were in the snow, I raised my hands to warm myself for the exigencies of the day.
The snow-track clouds were bathed in pink and red and were reflected in the still waters of the Welland Canal.
While a crow, perched on the very top of the tree loudly announced, “Today is the first of December!”
Just before dawn, when the fingernail of a crescent moon shines brightly in the sky, I revel at the flamboyant maple in all its orange-red glory; but in the back of my mind I wonder, “Why haven’t all the leaves fallen down by now, like before?”
One of the most complete joys of this fall season has been watching and hearing the male cardinal in the rose bush outside my bedroom window.
He is there regularly eating the rose hips.
Please share any cardinal stories you may have. Thank you.