Just talking about the weather

There is a lot of snow. I shovelled a path to the bird feeders that were caked and weighted down with ice. I cleared them off, refilled them, shook the coldness from my boots at the back door. Having put the canister away, left my boots to drip dry on the vent, rubbed a semblance of warmth back into my hands, I marvelled at the juncos, the cardinals, the woodpeckers, the lone blue jay, all replenishing themselves while appearing — to me at least — grateful.