And Speaking of Miracles. . .

Previously, I suggested that there is something sort of miraculous about a fresh, white blanket of snow.  That got me to  consider another miracle in our midst:  birds. 

My friend Bob has become an amazing photographer of birds.  His images remind one that, even in urban areas, we are in the presence of these little spectacular creatures.  And it adds to their mystique that they are a remnant tribe of the giant dinosaurs that once roamed the earth.

Bluebirds have long been a favorite of mine, my obsession fueled by the fact that I didn’t see one in person until I was almost 40.  Until then, they were a mythological rumor, like a nightingale. Now, every spring and summer, I make regular treks along Lenape Lane on the River to Ridge Trail just to say hello to these little guys.  This image is based on one of Bob’s photos, with the locale shifted from Illinois to the Gunks.  (Click on it to enlarge.)