The simple, helpful, life saving act of brushing the snow from the bird feeders, filling them, securing a baking tray of bird seed into the snow bank, dumping the ice from the water trough, filling the trough with warm steaming water, retreating to the dining room to watch a flock descend and eat. This is for Jane who died and was a better friend than I.
Bleakness for hours then a weak winter sun peeks out to cast a shadow on the yellow half painted wall from the small bust (David?) Mom brought home from Europe.
Mid winter thoughts of chopping down or moving the vine from the trellis just outside the dining room door then looking up from this to see sparrows using it to pause on their way to the bird feeders. The vine stays where it is.
Marble size crab apples on the roosting tree out back against the blue winter sky.
“Here Comes the Sun”