Several days back when we began one of our daily ravine circuits, and the weather seemed reasonably mild, just below freezing, we were surprised to see a group of robins flying about an area of the creek that runs through the ravine. There were at least six, and we thought perhaps they were juveniles. They should long since have migrated away from the severity of the winters we undergo. But the last few years we have noticed on occasion robins surprising us by their appearance in the ravine, alongside the creek, likely on the lookout for aquatic life, since they're basically live-eaters. We've seen them sometime at the miniature 'apples' on our Sargenti ornamental crab trees in the winter. Birds that used to vacate this geography have become accustomed to remaining behind, though we haven't noticed much of a let-up in the harshness of our winters.

Last evening, as the temperature was speedily dropping from its day-time high of minus-6 degrees and had reached minus-11, on its way to minus-16 for the night, my husband hied himself outside and worked to clean up spent seeds, to replace them with a fresh offering. He does this in the roofed pavilion meant primarily for squirrels, but which occasionally local raccoons visit as well, demonstrating for us on several occasions that there is room enough for a mother and two juveniles to sit together within its confines, nibbling at the peanuts and seeds. As well, he sprinkles seed liberally under the tall bird feeder, and on a smaller tray he keeps refreshed on the porch itself to which the raccoons also tend to migrate at night, along with the occasional presence of a rabbit.

Sometimes when he wakes early he ambles downstairs to open the dining room shutters and observe who might be there at dawn, and this morning, when the temperature was still at minus-14 with a stiff wind, there was the pair of doves we occasionally see. A day earlier a hairy woodpecker had been busy at the suet; previously we've seen downy woodpeckers and chickadees pecking at the suet.

The cardinal pair come along faithfully to take their measure of seed, and it's always such a pleasure to see them, their blaze of colour enlivening the atmosphere. On one occasion we even saw a large rat filling its stomach on the porch, at the seed offering. It was dark and the rat had no competition that night; we didn't mind its presence there for it's still an animal requiring sustenance and since it's there, why not?

Although we don't much mind when crows follow us in the ravine as we deposit peanuts in the usual cache spots, to retrieve them and methodically crack them open to extract the nuts, my husband would prefer they not feed at the seeds he puts out on our home turf for nuthatches, juncos, chickadees and any of our other avian visitors to which he is far more sympathetic, though I don't mind the presence of those clever crows one bit.