
"Earlier in the morning, puffy white clouds crowded the sky."
My riverbank world is lively today—sound and motion and everywhere.
The river is sparkling under a welcome dose of sunshine. Light dances in the riffles. The moving water looks like a smoky green mirror, though it's really so clear that in the shallows I can see stones on the bottom. I've been thinking how much fun it would be to put a canoe in somewhere upstream and spend a few hours floating back down to the cottage.
Earlier in the morning, puffy white clouds crowded the sky. Now those clouds have evaporated and the sky is a single sprawling canopy of baby blue.

"…so clear that in the shallows I can see stones on the bottom."
Squirrels are chasing one another at high speed around the yard, up the trees, across their aerial paths high in the upper branches. Play or mating…or a mix of both? Either way, they're great fun to watch.

"…great fun to watch."
Icicles along the eaves are dripping, falling. The snow is wet, catching and reflecting the bright light. Sometimes I hear a patch on the roof slip loose to come swooshing down and off, like a miniature avalanche.

"I took that ol' redbird's portrait."
Icicles along the eaves are dripping, falling. The snow is wet, catching and reflecting the bright light. Sometimes I hear a patch on the roof slip loose to come swooshing down and off, like a miniature avalanche.

"Icicles along the eaves are dripping…"
Birds are steadily working the feeders and scattered corn. A few minutes ago, just limiting myself to the birds I could see from my deskside window, I made a quick count and came up with 23 species. I likely missed one or two. Probably a hundred birds in view all told.

"Light dances in the riffles."
One particular cardinal keeps coming to the feeder that hangs under the eave a few feet from my desk. He plucks a sunflower seed through the mesh, pops it open and extracts the meat, then stares haughtily at me through the glass, as if he's a patron in a fine restaurant and I'm a window-peeping vagrant watching him eat. I took that ol' redbird's portrait.
Just downstream, a heron is waiting patiently in the shallows. A kingfisher has been repeatedly diving into the pool below the house. Every time the bird emerges from the water, I hear its rattly chitter. Crows are cawing at something on the hill. Every so often, the Carolina wren cuts loose with a burst of song.
I'm still thrilled about yesterday's bald eagle…but life goes on.
Today brings its own magic.
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