thinking of orange

We had a major snowstorm on April 1st, about 30 cm. The snow was very heavy and wet, bending all the coniferous trees' branches to the ground. This is a juniper whose branches usually jut up to the sky. Because everything was covered in a thick layer of snow, and because a large flock of pine siskins and a large flock of redpolls have been flitting about my yard but now all food became covered, I thought I must get these little birds some seeds. I walked out towards the bird feeder without digging out a path through the snow as I'm tired of shoveling for this winter we've had so much snow. So, I just trudged through it. My boots were filled with clots of snow, and my pink speckled socks were covered in balls of snow when I got back in. The socks went on the rad to dry.

A snowstorm in April is not unusual, as this photo from last year on April 11th shows, we had a heavy snowfall then, too. You can see the archway that holds one of my bird feeders in the background, behind the celtic cross that my sister, Della, bought for my garden one summer. No, I do not have someone buried in my yard, although there have been a number of bird burials.

After all this snow--and a flutter of large snowflakes just drifted down from the sky into my yard--I decided to think about orange. Here is the squash my son planted last summer that we ate in December. Eating orange is very healthy, they say.

Here is my sister-in-law Piper's painting of a red hibiscus flower, gleaming golden in bronze reflection of the early morning winter sun.

Here is a very partial selection of some of the bangles of the massive jewelery collection I have amassed, laid out on a mango orange chiffon-like shawl-like scarf.

And here is the out-of-focus orange face of Sydney, the lovebird, glowing in front of a painting of some Finnish women washing clothes at the river.