You are feeling veeeerrrrrrryy sleepy . . . . .

I watched him nodding off up in the old silver maple snag.   A frigid wind was ruffling the fur on his tail . . . but the returning sun felt good on his little squirrel back.   



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Birds of a Feather . . . Starlings

                                                   Starling

                                             
                                                 
                                     
                                     Ugly duckling,
                                     Squawking box.
                                     Through the winter
                                     flecked with spots.

                                      Dull and dissed, 
                                      until new sheen,
                                      reflects the sun
                                      of welcome Spring.



                                                  

Polished that little ditty off in about 10 minutes. Then I googled "starling poems" to see if it'd already been done.   Yup.  Great contrast.  Doggerel.  Poetry.

                                             Starlings In Winter by Mary Oliver


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Winter Birds through the Window at 10 '

Going to minus 11 tonight.

The birds are busy eating . .

and I'm busy keeping the feeders filled.

P.S.  That last one is not a bird :)

Winter Birds - Through the Window

Wish I'd installed that birdbath heater a little earlier in the season.   Wow!


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Through Winter Windows

It's the time of year to sit inside looking out . . . hopefully with a warm cup of something,

 a good book - and always the camera at the ready.

Ya never know who's looking back.

At this link, find some lovely winter windows at Jonna's Maumee Meditations.

Things That May Salvage a Gray Day . . .

What the Heart Wants to See

Oh little shake of fluff and feather,

At my window in blustery weather,

Athwart the pine branch dipping down,

You flit away without a sound.

C. Wilson
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  Oh Christmas Tree

Softly falls the snow around you,

as you struggle not to care,

that walkers let their dogs assault you

with legs akimbo in the air.

You wait beside the drifted curb

for the truck that comes around,

with squealing brakes that will disturb

the house's slumber with their sound.

But who will watch as you are lifted

heavenward to meet the end,

as are the others, now snow-drifted

supine and brittle on the ground?

Oh Christmas tree who threw the light

across the faces of the young,

Remember joy, the happy night,

when Christmas carols were happily sung.

Oh Christmas tree who patiently

graced the season of hope and love,

remember hands who carefully

placed the angel high above.

Remember green. The sun that shone,

above you in your forest home . .
and in that home that fades from sight . . .

You were the star that lit the night.

Cathy. Wilson

The View From Northview Diary

Form her very unique vantage point, Marianne posts some beautiful pieces on life.

"So hooray for bluebirds, blue skies, and shining vistas of woods and wild lands. They do a body good."


Northview Diary



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