I walked through the door alone to hear the silence of the night before the Earth sings to the sunrise. Half Moon had just sank low in the West, observing in the hush of peri-dawn tracks in the snow from the night visitors to the feeding stations. I could see so many stories upon those snow tracks, a mouse whose run stopped abruptly where wing span is in the snow. Fox coming in, walking lightly on top, Deer prints heavy and many, they have created a trail highway, Squirrels, with their tails dragging, can be seen and their stories of bringing home sunflower seeds. Many little birds trails, Crow and pheasant stories in the dark quiet. Probably yesterdays visit from Turkeys, whose tracks look like dinosaurs. Raccoon feet, the bears still sleep.
The silence of the enchanted stories of the trails was finally broken by the call of a Barred Owl, whoo hoo hoo hoo ahhh.
I filled the feeders. The Sun started to rise, the Earth started to resonate, Good Morning songs.
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