Monday, 28 September 2009

The black-capped chickadee

We had another cold front before Easter ─ windy for a change ─ and the wind chill went to the bones. The wind churned up particles and made the snow drift like smoke over Bistcho Lake.

It felt like razor blades against our eyes. I was driving the snowmobile from Indian Cabins and back to Tapawingo. I was driving without goggles and my eyes hurt like hell. They turned red and painful.

Henrik Nor-HansenTowards the evening the row of pines shook wild and dark. We could hear branches break and fall.

The next day the wind had calmed, but it was even colder. We’d noticed the black-capped chickadee before, even down to ÷50˚C, but this morning was different. I kept staring at this little bird, this tiny little ball of feathers. I kept staring. I kept seeing.

the black-capped chickadee