Winter mornings on Manitoulin are always quiet, but Christmas morning especially so. The loudest sound in the universe is coming from the goldfinches complaining about the encrusted icy snow on their favorite feeder. Yesterday's very wet snow has frozen overnight to coat everything, including every branch of every tree, in a hard whiteness. I had to scrape some of it off the satellite dish to find out of there's still another world beyond all this beauty. And to upload this appreciation of it.
Maybe it would be just as well to keep my silence. But a bird gotta sing, even if it's only about the hard and white. And i'm happy that, since there's nowhere to go today or tomorrow, i won't have to shovel any more of that frozen slush today.
I wonder how the outer world is doing — but hardly enough to find out.
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