A Snowy Seattle Morning

What's the best part of a sunny, blue sky, snowy morning? Do you really have to asK?

I savored a late morning cup of tea, watched the twitter birds snack at the suet feeder, and knew the snow would melt before it had a chance to grow dingy. TV weather dudes predict another light snowfall tomorrow; bring it on!

A Busy Week in the Neighborhood

There's never a good time to suffer through the flu, but this week was the best time to recover from Flu: Round Two. I had planned on hours of television time, watching Sochi Winter Olympic events, clicking from station to station on US and Canadian channels. I did some of that, but there's only so much curling I can view before dozing off.

No chance of dozing when the rumble of heavy equipment invades the neighborhood. Vroom, vroom! Thud! Crash! More vroom, vroom! Chunk by chunk a neighbor's house disappeared, knocked down by one man with a tracked Komatsu machine with a toothed bucket. Demolition is noisy and exciting. 

The next day the world outside my window turned black and white, blanketed by a light dusting of snow. Such a lovely visual gift, though not appreciated by anyone who had to traverse Seattle's hills on that day. It was a good day to stay inside and enjoy the view, in between naps and Olympic events. 

Later in the week I thought it curious that a group of crows kept doing power dives past the upstairs window, flashing by close to my reading chair. Local crows are known to pester osprey and eagles in flight, just for fun or hoping to steal something edible. It's hard to ignore large, winged objects hurtling past your head just feet away so I stepped to the window to check out the action. What a circus as crow after crow swooped down to harass an osprey that had landed in a neighboring yard. Oops! one young crow might have misjudged his approach and was now captured - osprey prey - soon to be osprey dinner.  

This was quite an interesting week in the neighborhood. Flu recovery wasn't at all boring.  

Brrrrrr!

Baby, it's cold outside.

Tuesday's high temperature

Icicles outside the kitchen bay window 

Snow frosts the Japanese garden lantern

Falling snow hides Mercer Island

Wednesday morning temperature

More Hummingbird Action

It was too icy and slippery for me to venture outside in the yard, but I didn't miss it. I loved watching the bird feeder action from my perch on the stair landing or at the kitchen table. The temperature had dropped below freezing, the snow piled up and I wondered why hummingbirds with any sense remained in town when they could be basking in the SW sunshine and warmth. Then the sun came out and our two resident Rufous hummingbirds appeared pretty content, fluffed up for insulation against the cold wind, but as content as two irascible hummers ever look. 

Hummingbirds can be extremely territorial when it comes to protecting a food source and these two were no exception. I wish I had a video of their dive bombing runs and dizzying aerials as each bird sought to drive off the competition and claim the feeder for itself. There were brief moments when both birds paused, sipped from opposite sides of the feeder, and then resumed the battle. The dominant bird finally rested on a branch or rope, maintaining a vigilant guard against interlopers.

Bird Feeder Action

This morning's snowfall was a treat, especially since we didn't have to drive anywhere today. While I gazed out the kitchen window, marveling at the beauty and leisurely enjoying a cup of tea, a flurry of motion caught my eye. One of the resident hummingbirds did repeated fly-bys, checking out the empty branch where he expected a winter feeder. Oops! how could I forget my bird feeder duties?!

RL did the footwork on the snowy deck, and will have to do early morning duty for the rest of the week. The feeder will freeze overnight, and a backup container is ready to be swapped in. The problem? the birds wake up hours before we do, and they get a little noisy and aggressive when you keep them waiting. I know that feisty feeling, if my breakfast and that first cup of tea are delayed. 

City Snow

What is it about winter weather that turns the kitchen into a comfort food prep station? The snowy cold weather this week triggered non-stop simmering of soups, stews, chili and the like. Then the fragrance of homemade bread, and even (gasp!) a cake or two perfumed the air and prompted numerous taste tests.  Hmmm, good… still good… even better with drizzles of honey butter. While we enjoyed every bite, we don't need the extra pounds or padding that are part of the comfort food package. Perhaps we’ll just get fluffy, and sleek down again in early spring. It works for our local hummingbirds, just check out the difference shown below in the winter and spring photos!

My primary outdoor exercise this week has been trudging across the snowy kitchen deck to refill the bird feeders. Hummer nectar freezes, so the feeder overnights inside in the kitchen. At 6:30 a.m. one hummingbird is usually perched on a branch waiting for his breakfast. If I don’t arrive until 7:00 a.m. the impatient bird lets me know I am late, buzzing my head and scolding with loud chitters. Let me sleep in and delay until 7:30 and the bird lands on the feeder base while I hang it up. I don’t understand birdspeak but I suspect it is a rude complaint.

Snow fell Tuesday from 4:00 a.m. until 10:00 p.m. (maybe later but I went to bed), with fat, heavy flakes dropping a curtain over the distant landscape and filling the air like the steam in a shower. Mercer Island and Renton disappeared from view. Even the bird feeders disappeared. After repeated trips to clear the nectar bottle holes I rigged a towel shelter that deflected much of the snowfall. The wind flapped the towel a bit, but the motion did not discourage the hummers for long. They buzzed it, hovered above and below it, and finally ignored it to land on the feeder and to loiter on tree branches under it's shelter.

Two Anna’s hummingbirds are regulars - yearlong residents in the neighborhood and winter diners at my feeder. The dominant bird vigorously drives off his companion so they rarely feed together but last night at dusk four hummingbirds fed at the same time. One tiny bird kept his long bill inserted into a feeder hole for over three minutes… I was sure he was frozen to the base. A second bird dipped his bill in and out, sharing the same opening, but bird number one never moved. Eventually they all zoomed off to wherever they spend the night.