Hunger Pangs

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."

Wayne Gretzky 

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday

Promise

Outside yesterday, after a stretch of ice and bitter cold, a little green caught my eye.  

I moved some dead leaves, and there, sure enough, 

a few snowdrops were pushing out of the soil.

It reminded me that even in the deepest cold, spring is getting ready.

There's an ancient promise God made to Noah:

As long as the earth endures,

seedtime and harvest,

cold and heat,

summer and winter,

day and night will never cease.

Genesis 8:22

The bluebirds seem to know this.  

They were in the birdbath, lifting their heads in praise with every swallow.

Linking with Wild Bird Wednesday
Little Things Thursday