Sleep. The great earth is still. Leaves wither and brown. They fall away and touch the earth. Decay. The great cycle of life. New things will come from them after the earth sleeps. A few friends stop by from time to time throughout the year. They are from other places. Snow birds. Colorado. Pennsylvania. All over…

They try and sit out the cold spell. Frost glistens in the morning. Old bones crack and ache.The snow birds flutter and move to warmer regions. They long for warmth. We provide it. In spirit. They fly. They sing. They collect in groups and drink from cement ponds… nourishment for the soul. The snow birds are content. Thanks to Brandon Wong for the images. Skate- Ozzie

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