"A flock of
black-capped chickadees comes through the snow, scurries through the fine dust
of sifted snow blown from the tops of the white drifts. They come with cheery
dashes and flirts of small, indomitable bodies which dare all the vastness of
inclemency to disturb the tiny-feathered embodiment of courage and conviction.
They are the wards of a benevolent order to which man turns when, dismayed by
the fancied savagery of his own scheme, he seeks sanctuary." Clifford
Raymond.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
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