More like a flurry.
The Wild comes to our door often.
We believe we are blessed It finds comfort here, knows Its children can rest.
Often passing flocks come to sup, to dine, to repose and gather themselves for their further journeys.
We once had a flock of ducks come to our feeders in a heavy snowfall. We went out with baskets of sliced apples, raisins, chunks of bread.
We considered coffee.
They thanked us and demurred.
Somedays it snows starlings.
As noted above, we are blessed.