A long time ago, I moved to North Carolina from California. It was the first time I'd driven east of Reno. It was mid to late October when I made my trek. Crossing the Mississippi at St. Louis, the topography changed from the Great Plains to wooded countryside.
The leaves had started turning colors and as I drove along, with every mile, the colors seemed to become more intense. From south Illinois through Indiana, heading south through Kentucky to Nashville and straight east to Winston-Salem, it was a most beautiful drive. Someday I'm going to write the post about that trip.
When I got to my new hometown, there was much talk about how tough a winter it was going to be. The squirrels were gathering their winter stores since September as if they knew they were going to be in need of a large supply.
The following month, NC was hit with the worst ice storm it had seen ever. The snow began falling on a Tuesday and didn't stop until Thursday. Then the ice came.
It was a freezing rain. Everything looked like the tree in the pic, only frozen solid. I went for a walk out in it and two things immediately struck me; the silence of humanity and the sound of ice in the trees.
You know how, when you get an ice tray out of the freezer and you give it a twist to loosen the cubes? You know the sound that makes? Imagine it continuing without ceasing as every breeze moved the limbs.
I remember standing in the middle of the street, hearing this, seeming the only human alive and watching to see the ice fall from the trees. But very little ice was actually falling. It was stuck to everything and when it cracked, it didn't loosen itself from where it was stuck. It was really an incredible experience.
Suddenly, a thought came to me and I straightened up, my senses instinctively heightened. I looked around at the trees and in them. I looked on the ground around me. Then I looked under the bushes. Then the trees again. What I was expecting to see wasn't there.
Where are the birds? The temperature hasn't climbed over 25 degrees for 3 days now. My own power had been knocked out due to too much ice on the power lines and they snapped. My apartment was cooling down, but it was still livable.
But out here, in the middle of nature, I surely would be dead by now if I had just the clothes on my back. Why weren't we up to our ankles with dead birds? No way they could survive out here with no food, no water, no protection from the cold.
Why aren't all the birds dead?
At that moment, a warmth came from within me. It spread through my entire body and engulfed me. It felt like I was being hugged.
It was then that I realized that the birds were being taken care of. They'll make it through this just fine, a little worse for wear, but they'll make it.
I headed back to my apartment to warm back up and dream about my new life. "Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"
Now, there's something to think about!
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