Sunday, February 26, 2017

Moving day freezing rain

Yesterday, from upon a high balcony, I hear such a deep, loud rattle I mistake it for a raven's voice. A resounding comb call imbues us with the gratitude of crows. Can there be any friendlier sound among birds or any better omen? The rainy limb it leaves isn't lifeless, though it seems. Walking on snow below, moving furniture in Quebec, winter still sleeps.