Yesterday morning, we had a dusting of snow which probably has nothing to do with a natural phenomenon I witnessed. The temperature was about 13 degrees, the sun was shining and I was briefly out of doors. Minute, shimmering flecks danced in the air. The air was filled with them. It wasn’t snow; as I said, the sun was shining, no clouds in the sky. It seems to me I’ve heard my dad speak of flying frost. Has anyone else heard that term? Whatever, it was beautiful and I felt blessed to have seen it. I think it had to do with the dryness of the air, the extreme cold, and the sunlight.
One of the most popular places around, this time of year is my bird feeder. However, birds are not the only little creatures taking advantage of the feeders full of black sunflower seeds. It’s a good thing the squirrels are cute and interesting; otherwise, their nuisance quotient would tip the scales against their popularity. When we lived in Oklahoma, I named our house and six acres, “Manos Meadows.” If I had a name for this home site, I would name it “Squirrel Acres” because truly, as far as squirrels go, my cup overfloweth.
And now today, unlike our friends in the northeast, we are to get a brief reprieve from extreme cold. But, look out come Saturday night and Sunday. Hmm. I wonder if all this could have something to do with that crocheted snowman still standing on my fireplace? He keeps his own counsel, but the look on his face is pretty smug. As a writer of mysteries, my curiosity is stirred and a small suspicion lurks in my mind. What if…
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