There are other clues, too. Just yesterday (wasn't a great day), I was driving east on Higgin's Line when my car fell into a pothole. I knew it was a doosie by the hard thud i heard as my tire fell into nowhere and then out again. It wasn't totally unlike my sinking into the snow, but my encounter was softer. Well, the bulge on my tire was a real indicator that winter is here and off I went to buy a new snow tire.
My old snowblower just fizzled last week after a "freak" snowfall amount that drifted straight into my driveway. The good news is that my new snowblower is much better. I can almost blow the snow out of the neighborhood with this jewel.
Despite all of that, there is something about birding that drags me out into the bone-chilling cold where I stand and stare at all of the birds around me. The shiver starts from the knees and moves up until I am nothing but a quivering fool, still standing and staring.
All of this makes we wonder how these great birds can tolerate such conditions, but they are hardy souls who could teach me a thing or two about coping with winter.
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I think it is really important to have a passion that forces me to face a season of discontent to see the small creatures that bring so much contentment into my life.
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