Glitter and sparkle

Just before we got to Hickories Park, I wondered if kingfishers migrate. I got my answer immediately: they don’t. Or at least, they haven’t yet. This was perched over the fastest current on a bitingly cold morning.

He was quite talkative, but even with all the rattling, it was hard to get my eye on him whenever he changed perches.

Even the water was shivering, and the ice made strange noises. Maybe there was a muskrat under it.

Cold blue and white and glittering snow everywhere.

A juvenile eagle sailed over us — always an inspiring sight.

And along the stream, little birds were hopping like popcorn. It was as if the ground was moving, they’re so similarly colored. Mostly sparrows and juncos.

There’s an old gospel song: “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he cares for me.” I hope he’s keeping a closer eye on me than the sparrows. They looked awfully cold, and there are plenty of predators that would like to eat them. They were too busy to think about that though. There is something inspiring and cheering about the way they get down to business and do what they have to do to survive. I celebrate sparrows. We nondescript types have to stick together.