Chickadee about to land on feeder perch.
Some “real” winter has finally returned to the area the last couple days and, with about 6 inches of snow on the ground, that’s pretty much the most so far this winter! It sure is the talk of the town what an “easy” winter it’s been so far. Along with the snow, it was on the cold side today so I went out to replenish the bird feeders. Chickadees (you will know either from your own experience or from reading previous posts on this blog) are brazen and tough little birds with a lot of gumption. I had barely rehung the feeder on the stand when they were starting to stage themselves in a nearby tree to start what seems like a tag-team effort at emptying the seed. I set down the seed bucket and stood motionless watching them, standing just 2 or 3 feet from the feeders. At first they flew close to the feeder then backed off, then flittered about closer still, and then figured it was safe enough to land on the perch and grab a seed. It was a wonderful sight and, even moreso, a magical sound to hear their wings fluttering against the still silence of a winter afternoon. I stood, for quite some number of minutes, watching and listening so intently that is was both relief and disappointment when I had the realization that my mind had not been thinking for a just a brief little while.
Downy Woodpecker at work
I slowly took a camera out of my pocket and began to snap off some pictures, hoping to get a good one. I think what I really wanted was for the camera to capture the feel of that moment, which of course it cannot. But I can hope to retain in my soul the honour of being so close… so close I could touch them… to a flock of gutsy Chickadees, a couple crazy upside-down Nuthatches, and a slightly-more-wary Downy Woodpecker, with its sharp beak efficiently making its way into frozen suet. And be thankful not only for the nature around me but for the good fortune to be–even if only for a fraction of a minute–fully present in that beauty.
There’s a unique peace that comes with a fresh blanket of snow. Part of it is visual—freshly fallen snow coats everything and has an untouched look about it. As dusk comes, it starts looking particularly other-worldly. You tell yourself, rationally, it is “white” but when you really look at it you realize it “is” blue. I guess that’s what some artists do: paint what it is, what it feels, not what the mind says it is.
Great pictures! Maybe you can blow up the one of the chickadee! Its a beautiful motion shot!