The snow has a hard crust on it. The jaunty Juncos are losing their footing. The Downy Woodpecker is pecking away upside down on a feeder thats supposed to tip him off. I didnt have the Cedar Waxwings like Joanne did but I sure did have my share of robins. They ate outside my window, looking at me on the computer, looking at them invading my invasive burning bush. Last falls leaves are blowing this way, then that way and hopefully back into the neighbors yard where they came from*. Im tossing everything I think Mother Natures little pets can devour - grapes, apples, pears, crust of bread - all that is past prime for my palette. Remember when we were light enough to walk on the crust of snow? That is until one foot and then another broke through leaving abrasions on your ankles. Now I am like the grapes, apples, pears - crusty and beyond maturity, so I wont chance any light fantasy on the sleet, shiny, white crusty snow. Oh no! * Dont you love that we can finally end a sentence with a preposition?
Posted on: Mon, 05 Jan 2015 21:13:24 +0000
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