The first snow of the season

As the weather man promised, we received about four inches of snow yesterday afternoon and into the night. With the back spotlight on, I could lie in bed and watch the flakes fall against a background of naked trees and night sky. High above the ground, the bedroom offers a somewhat treehouse view. This morning, the sun delivers the classic crisp, snowy Christmas card sort of tableaux, albeit a very windy one at the moment.

Outside our kitchen window we have a bird feeder which, in the warm months, attracts a nice assortment of avian visitors. Juncos, chickadees, gold finches, nuthatches, are regular diners. An occasional woodpecker, tufted titmouse or phoebe stops by. Now that it is 25 degrees and covered in snow, only the juncos are foraging on the ground, leaping on the feeder roof and finally making it into the protection of the feeder.  I will venture out in a while to spread more seed on the ground where they seem to dine the most and figure out where to hang a suet block to help them keep warm. Evidence on our deck indicates at least one bird spent the night under the cover over our deck furniture. Bird tracks in the snow mark their entry and exit.

Seeing these dusty gray birds this morning reminded me of an attack of envy I felt last weekend.  We did two stops on the 16Hands pottery tour in Floyd County. At the lovely home and studio of Silvie Granitelli, several feeders hung just outside the studio.  Suddenly they were covered in gold finches, tufted titmouse (titmice?) and one glorious blue bird no more than four feet away from me as I looked through the window.  I can't recall ever seeing a blue bird before and it just made my day.  Then I was envious. Why should these beautiful bluebirds be in Floyd but not in my part of Blacksburg?  Why are there still gold finches here when they have abandoned my feeders already.  What do I have to do to lure them to my forest? Some feeders are more blessed than others, it appears.