I washed these rocks for a fireplace I'm designing for someone. The ones with iron stains I put in a discard pile. Was it the surrounding soil or iron in the ground water or perhaps the iron leaching out of the rocks that made the stains? When I got home I found a winter wren quietly waiting inside a sill. Earlier I had left the back door open. As soon as I opened a window it flew out. Perhaps it was trying to tell me how to respond to my pain. "Weeping may remain for the night, but joy comes in the morning." Psalms. How long before morning? But perhaps I shouldn't be asking that. There are beautiful, black, shiny new head feathers on the no longer bald headed towhee. I looked online and apparently this bird is male as it is black and the chocolate colored ones are females. I'm glad he's got his feathers back. Even a bird can find something to be thankful for.
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