Day 34: The first real storm of the season has blustered in, and I was not venturing farther than the back porch this morning as I watched the dogwood tree being stripped of its leaves, red and green alike torn from the branches and swept across the yard. The small birds were in hiding. Only the Steller's jays and the ravens were about. Where the crows might have been was anyone's guess. There was not a caw to be heard in answer to my announcement of breakfast on the board. The jays made short work of four cups of dog kibble, carrying off the nuggets and stashing them for later retrieval. There's wisdom in that, wisdom which makes me think it might have been wise to lay in a few more groceries before the snow flies this weekend.
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