After some promising signs of spring, winter is back in full force. Sleet, like tiny frozen styrofoam balls, fell all day Sunday and piled up, covering the ground. By yesterday morning, it was a solid mass of ice, laying under the cushion of snow that fell overnight.
In the wee hours of the morning, Don fired up the wood furnace, and by the time I got up, it was already cozy inside. Church was cancelled on account of the weather, and so we busied ourselves at home.
Yesterday they gathered on a tree limb, facing the wind, displaying their red wing tips and the yellow on the end of their tails. As their name indicates, they appear to have dipped their feathers in bright hot wax before they started their day. In a moment, like falling leaves, they cascaded down to the birdbath and drank their fill, thanking the One who provides for them.
On a branch outside our window, one particularly fluffed up bird shivered against the cold, and periodically, opened his mouth. He seemed to be catching the sleet, and appeared to be somewhat surprised by the result.
He glanced my way, as if to say, "How cool was that?"
As the daylight disappears, they retreat to their quarters, often in the cedars,
where they wait for the light of a new day, entrusting themselves to the One who shelters them.
You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they were created
and have their being.
He cares for those who trust in Him.
Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday