The ringing of wind chimes is carried on the breath of the winter wind. In the frigid darkness of a moon lit night it seems to this listener that those wind chimes are the far off sound of bells echoing across space from some enchanted kingdom. That same wind creates the illusion that the stars themselves are singing at a pitch too elevated to be detected by mortal ears.

By day, winter’s presence is experienced in the sacred vegetation of the winter garden and the leafless silhouettes of the trees painted on a lavender sky.

And yet life goes on as it is determined to do.

Because I do not clear cut my garden in the fall there is both shelter and food for those creatures that struggle to go on living when the land itself is a frozen barren tundra.

The presence of a family of squirrels at my feeders presents me with an endless source of entertainment especially in the mornings when I sip my morning tea. Various birds bring movement and color to the bleak winter scene making the morning more cheerful.

A Hawk came calling the other day. Its presence has put the squirrels and birds on guard. They approach the feeders now with more caution than they exhibited before the hawks arrived, but still they come.

It is a challenging season, this season of the north wind, of ice, snow and bitter cold. It is seldom benevolent and yet life survives, life endures and all the winged ones and the small creatures endure without complaint.

But I think that they appreciate the help of their two legged relatives. It’s time now to fill the feeders and I, in turn, am grateful I am able to share my bounty with my furred and feathered kinsman. They are good company and I’d miss them if they weren’t part of my life.