Saturday, February 25, 2012

Blizzard Day

I'm looking out my window at what's supposed to be a blizzard.  It doesn't seem that bad out there!

Yet the local radio station has announced a few cancellations of events planned for today, from skating events at rinks to funerals.  

I guess I'm comparing this blizzard to some of the ones I've experienced here on this little jut of sand sticking up out of the Atlantic.  Most notable of these is White Juan, which happened slightly before this time in 2004.  

Source (with link):
We have power; we have snow tires on our car; our snowblower person was just here to blow out the driveway.  And we can see the road.  White Juan? wow. We were DAYS digging out of that one.  Seventy-six centimeters of snow fell across our province back then - that's about 26 inches for folks on the imperial system (like me), and that was after it had dumped 91 centimeters (34 inches) on the rest of our area before it got to us!  With all the wind causing massive drifting - it was one lulu of a storm... the snowbanks were that high that it was a danger to get to an intersection since they prevented people from seeing what was coming!  I felt worst, though, for the winter birds whose source of food was now three feet or more under the surface.  Or was it? 

As I write, the snowfall warning has been announced as having ended. (Chalk another fizzled blizzard up to El Niño.)  Well - I guess that plans can go forward pretty much as normal.  

I can't help thinking about those birds out there.  They have absolutely no control over the elements, and take one moment at a time, as it happens, without fretting about where the next grub is coming from.  They just survive - and thrive!  Yesterday I saw a family of bluejays in one of the trees next to our house.  They all seemed pretty well-fed.  I even heard what sounded like a cardinal the other day. The jays eat hibernating grubs from the pine and spruce that rim our property.  Cardinals are seed-eaters, and could eat the meat from the pine and spruce cones - those very same trees.  There is plenty of food for the birds - they don't have to dig through all that white stuff. And they endure (and survive - and sing through-) the cold... with far less warm clothing to wear than I have. And no roof over their head except the occasional branch.

The well-known words come back to me afresh - "Look at the birds... they don't sow or gather into barns but God feeds them.  If God feeds the birds of the air, how much more will He feed you, who have such little faith?"

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