The snow that fell last night clung to the trees this morning, making a winter wonderland. I swept off the deck to lay out birdseed and filled the front feeders, got a new cup of coffee and waited. The cardinals, juncos and chickadees were the first to appear at 7am. For a time in the early morning light, they all were motionless in the trees, bright red dots against the snow. A hawk must have been around, and then left not seeing his breakfast, for in union they all again began to eat and flit from feeder to deck to feeder.

Then the blue jays came. Noisy, piggy, stuffing themselves with seed after seed. Not like the cardinals, who politely nibble one seed, look around, wait, then take another nibble. Also, the jays are loud, screaming to each other, screaming for themselves, chasing each other away from their special place.

The squirrels come next on the half hour as if an alarm clock had set them off. I had to laugh because as they jumped from branch to branch they set off avalances of snow, minature blizzards. They are more like the bluejays, glutons, and not nice to each other. The other morning I counted nine, nine competitors, some more interested in fighting than eating.

The last to rise on a cold morning are the woodpeckers, downy woodpeckers that will go for the feeders, but prefer the suet, but today the suet is frozen, a little too hard for their taste.

Birds have been in the news lately - the reports of thousands of them dead, lying on the ground, in several parts of this country and even in Europe. What this mystery means seems to have everyone baffled. I can't imagine my life without birds. They are my meditations, my seditives, my addiction - and my salvation (that might be going a little too far!) When my neighbor Nick's wife died years ago, he went into a deep depression. She had been sickly, but her death was totally unexpected. His mood was so different, not the laughing, joking person he once was and his eyes would fill with tears frequently. Then, something changed him, brought him out of the depths of depression - a fishtank. Yes, he found an old tank in his garage and decided to buy a couple of fish. He told me about it, and I could see something had changed. Then he bought more fish, apparently he had once earlier in his life had fish, so he knew what kinds were compatable and would once in a while, splurge on an expensive, exotic fish. He told me how he would sit and watch those fish for hours. I thought of that this morning - I guess I use the birds like Nick used his fish. Relaxing, calming, amusing. I hope they find out soon what is causing these bird deaths. I need my birds.