It’s a wonderment, that on a chilly, rainy, late November day, the birds are singing and dancing in the wind just behind the window pane I’m staring through.

I’ve rearranged the furniture in my room, added another lamp from the attic, and now I can tap away on my computer while looking out at the mountains and harbor. Vancouver hasn’t been sunny or warm for several weeks now, the rain keeps falling and falling. I remember to take my vitamin D this morning. And perhaps with the extra light in my room I can feel cozy and energized. Still, I miss the kiss of the sun on my face. I miss other types of kisses as well.

A flock of tiny birds just flew by my window. It’s quieter now. But I still hear the sound of birdsong… and a couple of plump robins bounce through the top of the naked tree directly in front of me. A few stubborn yellow leaves cling on the trees, and shake in the breeze as a reminder of the season that we’re in.

A woodpecker just grabbed onto the top of my bedroom window. I bend my neck to the side to look at her, she peers back at me. Embarrassed, she takes off to find another wooden structure to feast on. Her red feathered head matched the rose that sits on my window sill, given by my landlady.

The birds keep singing. Their cheer pierces through the gloom, like red petals against an autumn gray sky, like a voice calling out to lone fishermen on a placid lake. Beyond the clouds I know the sun still shines otherwise I wouldn’t be able to see anything out my window. The birds know this, they live in the rain and darken woods, but still they sing. Oh that my heart would sing as they do. With spring and sounding glory, and the tenacity of hope resisting.

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