breathing in January

[summer_jackel]

It may rain again tomorrow.

A bit hefore noon, there flutters a flock of chickadees in plum branches a shade more supple than they were.
And to my rim of broken flower pot half-filled with birdseed comes a Stellar's Jay. All hopping tension and imperious sharp calls as he struts to take the food; sharp of beak and focused of expression. Such plumage: so unblemished and shiningly blue with newness, and on the sooty hood between his fierce black eyes a chevron of blue so pale as to be mirrorlike. All proud and fresh and lovely.

I breathe in this light, moist air and the jay calls twice. All around, everything is whispering about springtime.

Comments

[ladyringo.livejournal.com]

My mom showed me pictures of the Russian River flooding (she almost got flooded out). I hope you guys are not floating away!!

[hakeber.livejournal.com]

yes

[archteryx.livejournal.com]

You just poetically summarized why birders LIKE jays and cardinals during the winter. They are spots of bright color in the greyness of the winter woods, waiting once more to be hidden in the springtime's sea of green.