The
male cardinal is perched atop the peak of the small shed near the stone wall
that divides the berm from the access road. All around him, the light snow is
falling gently straight downward, collecting steadily as a layer of powder on
every surface, including the brilliant bird. He sits patiently watching the
juncos, who are in a frenzy upon the ground beneath the tube feeder, which is
empty from the morning’s desperate activity. On occasion, he shakes lightly to
rid the snow that has settled on his back and crest, making a flicker of
striking red color against the backdrop of brown trunks and collecting white
snow.
Without
any wind, this snowfall is nearly idyllic, drifting downward in no real hurry,
yet settling on the Earth measurably. The lower arbor vitae have shelves of
white all throughout their boughs, weighing them slightly so that the each sags
just a bit to the ground, opening the trees more fully until small avalanches
occur. These trickle down, cascading and causing others to dislodge, making a
powdery cloud of mixed snow that finally settles on the ground below.
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