It's been a dim, gray day here along the river—dampish-cold, as if the weather seemed unable to make up its mind whether to sleet or drizzle. Most of the time it opted for sleet. Thick ice eventually coated everything. The top row of the firewood stack was locked solid. To bring in an armload for the stove meant I first had to knock each individual piece loose. Sometimes the ice won…or maybe I just gave up too soon and moved on to an easier chunk.
Still, I've managed to keep the woodstove going strong. The cottage is cozy warm. There's a pot of hot tea ready on the warming trivet. And besides deskwork, I've managed to do a nice kettle of chicken soup for supper, with lots of veggies, barley, and a bit of fresh ginger. I'm thinking of baking cornbread to round out our meal.
A couple of hours ago the sky lightened and for a moment, I thought it might even clear. That proved to be wishful thinking. But even the bright overcast was welcome and seemed to lift everyone's spirits…particularly the feeder birds, who descended upon the suet, sunflower seeds, and cracked corn like a pirate horde on a treasure ship. I couldn't resist making a few shots.
The male goldfinch in winter garb is my favorite of the lot. His colors seemed to glow in the soft light. By summertime standards his current plumage would be considered drab. But life is a matter of perspectives. On a dreary February afternoon, to my winter-weary eyes, the fellow was delightfully gaudy!
