One thing I thought I’d never see, in fact something I would have told you I’d prefer not to experience, is snow in Galveston. I don’t like snow, or winter, or being cold. But the snow fell and it was white and powdered and beautiful. It coated everything and invited us all to pause and give in to its blankness. There’s nothing scarier than an empty space, a white pristine page, an uncharted path. But on occasion we must pause, take in the white expanse before us, and stand in awe without even thinking of how to fill it.
I might not love snow, but I did give in to curiosity and a sense of wonder. I also know things about snow. I lived in upstate New York, after all. I know how to bundle up (I’m also fortunate to have an excellent fur coat), know how to place each step securely on its squeaky surface, and know, above all that the beauty of freshly fallen snow is brief. The magic devolvs quickly into ugly slush. And so, I took a walk early this morning, when everything was fresh and beautiful, big flakes still falling from the sky. I took some pictures. There was snow on the beach.
Then I returned home to feed my grackles. Turns out, they like bread fine, but they love dog food and dog treats quite a lot, and they might even come knock on your window for more. And that is totally fine by me. As the owner of Blackbird Cottage it is obviously my duty to take care of the Blackbirds.
