Snow snow snow! It snowed! It snowed! There is snow! It stuck and everything! EEEEE! Snow!
Snow is the best, when you live in a climate that doesn't get it often. It's the one childhood magic that doesn't go away when you stop believing in it. (It can, mind you, smother you under the weight of grim familiarity, but even after nearly a decade in Minnesota, I still found the first snow of winter exciting.)
Now, in a perfect world, where the weather gods have me on as a consultant, we'd have gotten about another inch, since it's not quite enough to do that thick white blanket that obscures all the edges of everything, which is the best snow. But there is snow!
Every bird that ever visits the feeder is out--a whole fleet of White-Throated Sparrows, three Cardinals, one crazy-eyed Brown Thrasher, a couple Goldfinches and the local White-Breasted Nuthatch. Plus a handful of Juncos and Titmice and Carolina Chickadees. There are fat Mourning Doves squatting on the fence.
Thrush-Bob is sitting on the porch among his mealworms, fluffed up to softball size.
We have plenty of mealworms, plenty of sunflower seeds, and absolutely no reason to leave the house at all. We both work at home, the internet's working, there is lots of coffee, and it is a glorious day to be snowbound.