Juncos foraging in the snow. One flies up to the branch nearest to my chair and inches sideways, its down coat puffed out against the cold.
12/22/2008
12/21/2008
12/20/2008
12/19/2008
12/18/2008
12/17/2008
12/16/2008
12/15/2008
12/14/2008
12/13/2008
12/12/2008
12/11/2008
12/10/2008
Rain and fog. Only the low rumbly sounds break through: a jet, a train. Sitting in the dark, it’s almost possible to believe in isolation.