“Our laughter kept the feathers in the air. I thought about birds. Could they fly if there wasn’t someone, somewhere, laughing?”
-Jonathan Safran Foer,
I finally clean the feeders and fill them with fresh seed and suddenly the yard is full of birds. I recognize, what I think, is the birdsong of a bird that usually arrives come spring. I speak up, telling him/her that it is too early for them to land in the PNW. I sit outside with my camera, the chill of the morning air surrounding me. I relish in it a bit as I watch the birds fly in and out of the trees, their feathers ruffled out to keep them warm. They play nice as they land here and there. They are noisy, but waiting patiently for their turn at the feeders.
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