Looking west.
This morning when I stepped out onto the back deck I heard a white-breasted nuthatch beep-beeping among the branches of a maple in the little north yard. The voices of crows, too, sounded from somewhere the unseen distance. The temperature overnight had dipped to about freezing, but a brilliant morning sun had already begun to melt the husks of ice on the low flat places where collected traces of yesterday’s rain.
Ring-billed gull.
At midday, about a half dozen crows gathered in a green grassy yard across the road. They appeared to be haggling over a morsel of food. Above them, about a dozen gulls—ring-bills, mostly—circled against a brilliant blue sky. But precipitation’s in the forecast. A chance of two to four inches of snow.
By evening clouds had moved over. By late tonight, as I write this, a few flakes circle like flies in the porch light. It’s about 34 degrees (F) still.
I’ll be surprised if we get two to four inches of snow.
