I don’t like the sun to rise before I do. To have a clear view of the eastern morning horizon, before the sun peeks, is one of the many reasons I live in the country.

With the temperature in the single-digit range I stood outside this morning and, at first, it seemed as if all sound was frozen in the air. Then it came to me, the rustling sound of nature starting with the leaves of young oak trees. A flock of small birds flew overhead with no sound except for that made by their soft wings. A thought came to mind. Just how do they keep their exposed feet from freezing in the cold temperature with a northerly breeze? I’m guessing it has something to do with their intricate artery network.

It wasn’t even 6:00 am and my cup was already overflowing.