Twilight is stealing along the river. There's a flush of slamon-pink to the west, casting a warming hue to the snow cover that fell Saturday. It's the first sky color I've seen all day. According to the almanack the sun set an hour ago, though I'll have to take their word on the matter. From my riverbank perspective, today was heavily overcast—a gray day, dimly lit. Even at midday, the wane light barely brightened…and then only by a few degrees. I certainly didn't expect a colorful finale.
Today has also been cold and filled with flurries which often came blowing in horizontally from the northwest. It was 16˚F when I stepped outside a few minutes ago for a long look upstream. A good evening for a hearthfire.
As is always the case, the blowing snow had droves of birds congregating noisily around the feeders. At one point I counted seventeen different species—mostly the usual crowd, though I did have a flicker, a crow, and what I think must have been an orange-varient house finch. I managed a quick shot of this latter bird, when it posed, fluffed up, on the back of my deck rocking chair. Take a look and tell me if I'm wrong.
Tomorrow afternoon I have to go into the hospital for a routine screening colonoscopy—an outpatient procedure that, barring complications, takes a couple of hours. One of the rewards of aging. I'm not exactly looking forward to it…but it's not all that big a deal and can certainly save your life. What I am looking forward to, after a day and a half on a clear liquids diet, is real food.