Last week a snowstorm clipped our area as it funneled down from the north. This week a snowstorm is barreling up from the south.
After complaining my way through two mild winters, I’m trying to focus on the happier aspects of a “normal” winter. Fresh snow is pretty, hard freezes mean fewer insect pests in the summer, and icy walks renew my gratitude for warm blankets and hot water.
What do you love best about winter?
Carolina Wrens are rare visitors in the yard, so I was excited to see a pair of them last week.
With vivid eyebrows and down-curved bills, these little wrens always look a bit grumpy to me. They are active foragers, and the pair in our yard spent hours sifting through the iris beds in search of insects. They tossed leaves and other wintry debris out of the beds as they hunted, and I couldn’t help imagining a dialogue of fussy disapproval.
“Just look at these irises! Have you ever seen such?”
“Never! They’re buried in leaves!”
I was tempted, watching the wrens, to pull on my gloves and give the iris beds a thorough cleaning. But winter is far from over, and the irises need their blanket of leaves. Especially on nights like tonight, when wind-driven snow is swirling through the yard…
The yard was full of birds today. Flocks arrived in waves, flashing in and out of patches of sunlight as they foraged. Rather than braving the cold, I sat in the window with my camera and enjoyed a long, quiet afternoon in the warmth of our kitchen.
The chickadees, warblers, and woodpeckers were too busy to stop for photos, but a small flock of sparrows spent nearly an hour grazing in the half-frozen grass and weeds. They stayed in a part of the yard that had already fallen into shade, pointedly avoiding sunlit areas.
(There were four of these little sparrows, and I’ve had no luck identifying them. Chipping Sparrows? Swamp Sparrows? Am I getting close? Please comment if you can help!)
Tomorrow is forecast to be a bit warmer with lots of sunshine. I wonder if the birds know?
The yard’s first bird of 2014 was a new bird for me. She showed up on New Year’s Day, but I was on my way out the door and didn’t have time to stop for a photo. Fortunately, she returned today…
(I believe this is a female Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. I saw a juvenile sapsucker during my last trip to Alabama, but this is the first adult I’ve ever seen. Please comment if you can confirm or correct my identification!)
I followed her with my lens while she hopped from limb to limb in the pear tree, but I didn’t get a clear photo until something startled her and she paused.
She flew away a few minutes later, when a hungry squirrel climbed onto an adjoining branch.
Despite gloomy skies and an approaching storm, I can’t think of a better way to start a new year in the yard!
Yellow-rumped Warblers began arriving a few weeks ago. Now they are a constant presence in the wax myrtle as they gorge on the small, unappealing berries that other warblers cannot digest.
Every year I fall in love with the warblers, all over again, and spend hours trying to photograph them.
Cloudy days test my patience with low light and grainy images.
Sunny days emphasize the warblers’ camouflage, turning photos into abstract riddles of highlight and shadow.
Exposures set for the interior of the wax myrtle flare distractingly bright whenever a bird strays into a patch of sunlight.
Exposures set for sunlight fail when a bird retreats into shadow.
Every so often, sunlight, shadow, and bird merge into a split-second of breathtaking beauty. At those moments I freeze, too captivated to remember my camera. Then the moment passes, and I’m left snapping a photo of perfection’s echo.
These photos are the most frustrating of all, teasing reminders of what might have been. They are also my favorites. They are cause and effect. A reason to keep taking photos. Photos worth keeping.
I’m finding that photography, like poetry, is a hunger that returns season after season.
Rae Spencer 