All That Is Ours

The sun emerged this morning and lit the icy backyard, the berries, and the Northern Cardinal that always returns. I’m not a photographer, so you’ll have to imagine the beauty:

Imagine the chipper call of that bird against the silence of a winter morning. Imagine the clean smell of snow. Imagine his bright red feathers. Imagine the glistening of icy branches.

I leave for my day of campus meetings and errands, and I return to the afternoon sun now shedding different light. The Northern Cardinal rests in the Winterberry Bush, surveying all that is his. We both rest here in the bright sun.

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