her website and her blog.
Birds huddled on the snow. Little, living igloos, their white plumage reflecting the light. And as with igloos, inside they are warm with hearts beating, blood coursing through their tiny veins. Leafless, black trees jut up from behind the hill, an ominous backdrop for this still and silent gathering. These vigilant dwellers are
like little snowmen, hiding in the shadows for fear they might melt.