Out the window I see a bird clinging to the tiniest stem of a black-eyed susan. I think it's a nuthatch; yes, there's the nice, dark stripe through his eye. He hangs upside down and picks at the last of the seed from susan's pupil. The flower barely bends, and mostly by the breeze rather than by the weight of the little contortionist. All of God's creatures are readying for winter. Rodents are squirreling away sunflower seeds from the large heads that were saved from the garden. Many of our favorite birds have already left for their home in the South. Some of the residents in town are readying to follow them very soon. We have several "snow birds"; a term that I could never really understand. Wouldn't it make more sense for US to be the "snow birds" and they the "sun birds"? One of the great perplexities of life, I suppose.
I sip my cup of steaming tea and ponder why anyone would wish to leave a part of the country which will soon be dazzlingly white and sparkling. Yes, the snow mounts up and must be regularly pushed aside to make a path for our feet, but it is my opinion that the splendor greatly outweighs the work. Thankfully everyone does not think alike, else the world would be a very boring place, no?
Come winter I will still sit with my teacup at this very window; no doubt, watching the cardinals at the feeder. Cardinals, now there is a creature who is individual in its species. Our friends take pictures of them at their winter birdbath, away down South while we watch their cousins who have chosen to tough it out with us, here in the North.
I wish you were here to discuss these questions with me; but, alas, you're there in the South - I miss you, my Sun Bird.
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