Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

This morning a fine dusting of snow lay on the streets, sidewalks, and trail. I couldn't wait to leave for work, riding the blue cruiser and leaving her tire tracks in the white powder. The temps had risen slightly overnight, and the wind blew from behind. I didn't have to double up my gloves or wear my scarf over my nose and mouth, and my heart didn't pound like the last few days because I had to push into the wind. No. This morning was quiet. This morning was still. This morning the daylight offered a glimpse of purity. And this beauty against the white sky.

On my way back from the lake today, I came across this beauty. I slowed when I was about 15 feet away, thinking it would spread its wings and whoosh up into the air, but it stayed put. I got off my bike, all the while waiting for it to take flight. It merely looked at me. I stepped closer to it. It began to raise its one wing, so I edged around behind and could see the wing on the other side was in pretty bad shape, several feathers sticking out away from its body and several feathers appearing as if gnawed by whatever got hold of it. I called Hubby who gave me the number to animal control, but when I called, no one picked up. Their hours are M-F. I called Lovely Beautiful Daughter to see if she had the number for her aunt, the one person I knew who would know who to call to help the bird. Lovely Beautiful Daughter didn't have her aunt's number. Neither did I since we downgraded our phones yesterday, going from smart phones to those that just call and text. So much for simpli...