Just because I am an admitted “nature lover,” that does not mean I have an equal affection for everything in and about nature. Who does? I mean, does anyone really love mosquitoes? Cockroaches? Hurricanes?
Natural pests and disasters aside, there is one thing about nature in particular that is always hard to love or even appreciate–or even tolerate: COLD.
Being deficient in natural insulating layers, a lack that clothing can never quite make up for, I dread the coming of late autumn and then winter. I spend a good half of the year preparing for, enduring, and finding (sustainable) ways to avoid the cold in all its terrible forms: frost, snow, sleet, ice, drafts, chilly winds, numbing gales….
And yet even the cold weather is not entirely absent from the warm places in my heart, thanks only to one saving grace. Yes, even the depths of the wintry cold, when the sun seems to mock us shivering mammals in this sublunary world, can make me smile, wonder, and fall in love again. For when the weather outside turns frightful and the fire inside is so delightful, those of us in the eastern and southern parts of the United States can enjoy the return of “old Sam Peabody.” Open your ears on a cold day and you may hear his song:
Old Sam Peabody Peabody Peabody.
Ah, yes, cold weather means the return of old Sam Peabody, i.e., the song of the humbly magnificent white-throated sparrow. After spending spring and summer up north, mostly Canada, the white-throated sparrow heads south (though not all the way down to the tropics like many other birds) to enjoy a milder winter clime than that in the boreal regions. (Smart bird!)