Winter's Wren.

09/02/2012.
-8 degs & dropping, Wind NNE biting cold.
A dense cover of cloud all day.
A constant light fall of snow, lays winter's carpet. With bitter coldness that has a winter smell and the feel of soft flakes on my face, I watch as two Ravens fly low on the ridge. I watched as they grew small in the fading grey light, until just a distant echo!

Walking I came to a stone wall, where still last summers grasses hang from it's edge, like tendrils of some dying creature. There were some hole obvious, and it was from one that a male Wren appeared. 
The smallest of bold, with much quickening of wing and a standing tail erect!

I decided to stay and observe for a while, I marvel at his traversing & searching among the dead tendrils, foraging for a food to keep out a winter night's grip.

A russet brown energy, bar marks compliment his creamy eye stripe that is ever so evident.
His long down curved bill, purposefully probs for a spidery delight. 
For this time of watching, all else is forgotten, in timeless motion I watch & write. To take note, to admire and learn, to observe the smallest of small, yet the loudest of all.

This shy elusive singer, can be heard all year long. Hidden from sight so as not to be seen, but to hear his, excited, rapid and vibrant verse, so loud from so small, it not to be missed.
Then all of a sudden, with a "whirring" of wings, into dusk's dull light he's gone, I am left with cold breath and alone, but evermore fulfilled!