The theme of the week here on St. Simons is COLD. We have had cold with rain, cold with drizzle, cold with a wee bit of sun, and cold with wind. After more than twenty years of living in Alaska, you think I’d be used to it. But the cold here is the raw, wet, kind that makes you feel as if you are wrapped in a freezing, wet towel. And we don’t have a crackling wood stove or fireplace to warm our extremities, so my fingers and toes feel like permanent ice cubes.
The birds are hunkered down, with their feathers highly inflated.
The skies have been mostly a gun-metal gray, making color even more welcome than usual.
And a wood stork’s reflection.
It was the size of a small lynx, or a plump Brittany Spaniel. I actually thought it was a dog at first, then concluded that it must be a lawn ornament. But when I moved, its face followed me. An enormous face with little foldy ears. I don’t imagine its owners have to worry about rodents–it looked large enough hunt raccoons. I have never seen a anything like it. Does anyone know what it is? A Scottish Fold maybe? It was HUGE.
The gray weather seems to highlight oddities, such as fungus, bark, and fishing lines.