The old pine gone, our Eagle sightings are a bit more rare these days. Mostly we catch them in flight, crossing our edge of the water with talon-wrapped branches or a clutch of brush. Each time I send up hope the backwoods nest is being feathered for a new brood of babies.

But that’s not to say there isn’t other action in our little corner of the world. Tim has been fighting a losing battle with an army of Canada Geese who insist the part of our yard that rims the pond belongs to them. It stands to reason, these geese believe, they can do as they wish with the lawn my husband has lovingly cultivated there.

He begs to differ.

We have seen a great deal more of our resident Great Blue Heron. Always the hunter, it’s mesmerizing to watch him. I do believe he is the most intentional creature of creation—every. single. move. is calculated. What joy it brings that he has taken to perching on a branch just over the water, perfectly in view of my big kitchen window.

Perhaps we shall call him “Blu.”

As we move on through Winter, I am reminded how every season brings with it something new and wonderful, a color all its own. How I love the hues of February.