This Sun-filled Day

It's one of those peerless days here.  Early February and the sky is pure, cool blue, the sun shining.  It warms the heart even if it is a little chilly outside.  The wind is blowing, but not too hard, freshening us,  making us know that true spring will come again.  The water riffles softly under the moving air, pushing the mallard hens gently toward shore.  They dip their heads, taste the water, and rainbow drops fall along their necks.  They speak quietly, a murmurration of ducks.  The tufts of golden grass along the lake shore dance just a little.

Under the feeder the brilliant fox sparrow cautiously moves from cover into the sun.  His deep umber arrowhead breast markings are brilliant.  The song sparrow perches on the highest snag near the feeder, giving his familiar call.  The juncos, looking like small hooded monks, hop in the grass, chase each other, jet around the big shore pine, then return to feed.  The towhee, brilliant in spotted spring dress already, peers from deep cover, always cautious.
The Spanish name for towhee is El Raskador.  This is a perfect name for towhees.  When they search for food, they grasp the loose, dead leaves and duff in their large clawed feet and hop backwards.  This reveals open ground and whatever morsels, such as grubs or insects, were buried.  This movement in dry duff makes a rasping sound.  Therefore,  raskador - the maker of rasking noises.

A small flock of gulls circles above the water, one of them blindingly, lovely white against the sky.
The Anna's hummingbird is just now at the feeder, alternately sipping and scanning for the other hummingbird.  He owns this feeder and is quite clear about it.  His face and throat just flashed brilliant red-purple in the winter sun. 
More rain and hard wind will come, maybe ice and snow again.  But this heavenly respite, this deep breath of sun-warmed air will carry us through.