Beneath it's snowy mantle cold and clean,
The unborn grass lies waiting for its coat to turn to green.
The snowbird sings the song he always sings,
And speaks to me of flowers that will bloom again in spring.
"Snowbird" lyrics by Gene MacLellan
It's easy to understand how a song beseeching a little bird to "take the snow back with you" might strike a chord in Canadian hearts, topping the charts in the 1970s. A lot of big, fluffy flakes fell from the heavens this morning. It's still novel and exciting to me, so I was quite happy to shovel the accumulation twice between 8:30 a.m. and 12:30 p.m.
When it stopped, the birds circled the feeders and emptied their contents. It amazes me to see the numbers of birds that seem to enjoy the snow.
And I love my red snow birds that brighten the winter's whitish-grey winter palette.
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