February

Sunsets red and quiet air;
Ponds are ice and trees are bare;
Fields are frozen far and near;
February days are here.
Bitter cold the night draws down
On the country and the town,
But in cheerful warmth we sit,
And the nursery lamp is lit.

Then, when mother stops our play,
Father puts his book away
And he makes upon the wall
Shadow pictures for us all.
There a rabbit wags its ears
Or a grinning face appears
Or a swan with feathered wings
Ships and many other things:
Last of all a night-capped head
Then we know its time for bed.
-K. Pyle

We are all ready for the winter storm expected to arrive this evening. I have covered up my vegetables with sheets and filled up the bird feeders. Our female cardinal waited up in the tree for me to finish. By the time I got back in, the male had joined her at the sunflower seeds.