The cold continues. Snow has been on the ground for over a week.
Bluebirds frequent their heated birdbath. Two or three arrive first...
...and the rest follow in close succession, splashing down like a winged waterfall.
In the hollow, a red-shouldered hawk soars in broad circles,
his piercing eyes scanning the ground for some hapless creature
to warm his belly and help him get through the winter.
Near the house, he perches in a craggy oak...
pivoting his head to all points of the compass.
The deck, so recently a living carpet of birds, is strangely vacant.
Red takes a pass, but comes up empty. But hey,
"You miss 100% of the shots you don't take."
Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday