Forgive me for spending so much time writing about snow but that has been the big story-maker as of late. I am thankful that we did not receive ice because heavy snow does not, as a rule, create power outages.....unless a power line becomes downed for some un-snow (my word) related reason.
I ventured outside today, the second time since the BLIZZARD. It was a quick scamper to put a letter in the mailbox and to retrieve the newspaper. After my posting about nocturnal plasterers, it was a different landscape than I witnessed before. My neighborhood looks just like the post-snow pictures being shown, both in print and on the small screen, of houses dwarfed by mammoth piles of snow. My favorite pictures are those that have a human or a vehicle next to the drift or piled snow in order to demonstrate scale. There are some impressively tall snow mountains!
The day of our blizzard, when I could see outdoors for any distance from my comfortable and warm indoor space, I was fascinated by the birds. The occasional pair of Northern Cardinals would brave their way to my neighbor's feeders and, as I observed them being shaken about by the strong winds, I wondered how their tiny claws could hold on to anything long enough to grab seed with their beaks. Two doves, or something resembling doves from a distance, huddled together on a tree branch, their feathers all puffed out, undoubtedly attempting to maintain any body warmth they could muster. Earlier that morning when I went downstairs to check out how high the drifts were against the condo, I came, literally, face-to-face with one dove-like bird perched on the brick ledge outside a bedroom window. The bird barely moved, resembling a giant puffball and, at first, I thought it might be either dead or in peril. I squatted down, getting eye level with the bird, who seemed to be oblivious to my presence on the other side of the glass. After thirty seconds, or so, the bird did move its head in a shaking motion, as if to throw off the snowflakes that were trying to make the bird and the snowy ledge one. I stayed with the bird for about three minutes, careful to remain motionless so as to not scare the bird away from its snowy sanctuary, where a giant drift behind it was acting as a wind-buffer. Wanting my SO to see the bird, I left the room but when I returned, the tiny creature was gone. I was able to peer out beneath the ledge and could ascertain that the bird was not lying motionless on the snow below the window.
I thought about that bird all day, feeling guilty for being toasty and safe within the confines of my condo, knowing that wildlife of all kinds were struggling with the winds and snow. Yesterday and this morning, the bird and squirrel activity is back to it normal level and I am preparing to leave to run errands. Man and beast are compadres yet again.
Ancora imparo
