On a cold, clear morning in February, the boards on the front deck creak under foot… but the air is still and quiet. Smoke rolls out the chimney, pearly white against a blue sky. Frost and slivers of ice cling to tree branches and blades of grass. Where the sun touches the snow, it sparkles.
It seems as if the entire world is sleeping, except for the rippling light and the shadows at play between the leafless trees. Then, the quick dart of a bright red cardinal and his blushing bride catch the eye.
A little mole, glossy and dark, scurries across the glinting snow, too quickly for photos. He drops through his half-moon door into a hidden nest.