I am washing dishes, looking out the window at the way last night’s heavy snow*. It’s bowed the branches of our small trees and various shrubs, making rather lovely arches and temporary small cathedrals. A few usual small birds have been to the mixed-seed feeder we have going at the moment. There’s one right now, making the feeder swing with every attempt; it’s really too large for that feeder.
“Hey, LittleBirder, there’s a Blue Jay in the crabapple tree. Go look!”
He runs to the front door. This is a glass door, and at the moment surprisingly clean. I assumed he’d look through, since the crabapple is only about 8 feet from this door. Plus he’s in jammies, and it’s somewhat chilly, having snowed and all. But no. I hear it swing open.
And surprise, surprise, the Jay flies away. Oh well!
* 1″-2″ very wet and sticky, perfect for snowballs
“Mama, birds like the snow because of their warm fur.”
“Hm. I don’t think so.”
and
“Mama, it’s snow time, so we should feed the birds.”
