Restfully listening,
I hear the guttural chuck, chuck chucking of the partridge
as they forage for food
where the woods meets the yard.
The chickadees sing their chick-a-dee deeing song
as they swoosh back and forth from feeder to tree,
burying seed in trunk crevices, sustenance for the winter storms.
The day dims various shades of browns and grays
as the sun disappears
behind an opaque sky blanket.
Wind takes on a low intermittent moan reminiscent of harder times.
The day mourns change, the sky leaden, as branches do a slow dance of anticipation.
The rain stutters briefly in a soft voice then fades.
My heart quiets
in the whispers of His song.
~ ~ ~
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