Three toed tracks on the crust of new fallen snow, form a strange alphabet. Almost as if asking in this new language where have all the seeds and bugs gone? I understand their hunger as they huddle in the cold, so I stop by the local mom and pop to buy a large bag of seed. Now all the tracks overflow one another around the tin pie plate I filled for my winter feathered friends.
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Aw!!! Lovely thoughts, Steve.
I was watching a dove eating berries on the Elderberry today and wondering what it would do in winter ... so this kind of followed on my thoughts.
Thanks for sharing
Snow
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Live one day at a time -it's simpler that way. Laugh loud & often - it's medicinal. Write from the heart - it's therapeutic. Beauty comes from within - the outer is just skin!
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