A Winter Morning
100 words ... and three wild birds
Article voiceover
A pale sun slips across this January sky. We turn our faces to it, seeking the faint heat that lies behind the haze. Winter lingers long in this place.
We sit on the bench, amid the bare and broomy trees. Her head is resting soft against my shoulder. Our mingled breath is visible in the frosted air, our hands in woolen mittens.
In these blowy woods, the song of the sparrow echoes our grief, the thrush, our sorrow. The dove’s lament contains our tears.
But we have each other, and this love will carry us.
This love will carry us.
Gold-crowned Sparrow singing “oh-dear-me”
The Hermit Thrush singing “Oh-holy- holy! Ah-sweetly-sweetly”
Mourning Dove’s coo-AH-oh-oh-oh
Thank you to
of , for letting me use her lovely photo of winter trees.
Birds sing. Spell songs and listen. Quiet pause. Takes a fresh breath. Receives a reply. So much to say on a winter’s day. No time to be sad, but glad that there is someone that understands love.
I love the image of the 'mingled breath'...'visible in the frosted air' - very atmospheric setting Sharron, which reflects well the emotional undertones - spellbound.