What's Here Now

12/14/25

Sunrise, December 9, 2025

What’s here now are cold mornings, usually around or below freezing. The freezing mark doesn’t feel as cold as it did a month ago, or maybe I’m just wearing more clothes.

Proof it’s below freezing!

What’s here now are winter ducks. My survey of the lake most mornings yields common goldeneyes, hooded mergansers, a few greater or lesser scaups, and occasionally a ruddy duck.

One or two or about forty common goldeneyes! I have to stay somewhat hidden behind the grass and brush or they will fly away.

What’s here now are ring-billed gulls by the hundreds. On quiet mornings, you might not see them until they all take off for wherever they prefer to spend the day. On windy mornings, they give off a party vibe as they seem to deeply enjoy swooping and diving on the wind.

Ring-billed gull soaring on the wind.

What’s here now, occasionally and only on the most still mornings, are tiny ice scupltures where the water has splashed up on the remaining vegetation. Little sparkles and glimmers most delightfully seen as the sun rises and shines on them.

Tiny, upside-down milk bottles. (For those that remember glass milk bottles!)

What’s here now are robins. Hundreds and hundreds of robins! Speaking of a party vibe, robins roam like teenagers searching out the juniper berries and any other berry treats they can find.

“Gonna fly now…” (American robin)

What’s here now are purple finches! I’ve seen them every morning this week, which is such a pleasure, as in some years they don’t visit here at all. The raspberry-painted males are fewer and harder to spot in the trees and bushes than the females with their distinctive eye stripe.

The females with their eye stripe that distinguishes them from our more common house finches.

The brightly colored male having what’s left of the maple seeds for breakfast.

What’s here now are the occasional kinglets. Most days, I will see at least one ruby-throated kinglet zip through the bush in her zig-zag-never-stops manner. Only once (so far) have I seen her cousin, the golden-crowned kinglet, flying up to a branch and then quickly disappearing into the brush.

If you look closely you can see his ruby-crown hidden in his head feathers.

They never sit still for long, but that golden crown is hard to miss!

What’s here now, in the lucky moments, are the surprise birds that can show up anytime through the winter. This week’s first surprise was another American pipit tail-bobbing near the water’s edge. This week’s second surprise was a lone pelican, quietly swimming away as I walked near the shore.

American pipit, showing up and showing out!

Hello big friend! I hope you find your flock.

What’s here now, sometimes, are the quietest mornings of the year. I notice the hush, especially on the gray mornings when thick, low clouds hold everything in their embrace.

Horned grebe on a still morning with just enough light to sneak under the clouds.

What’s here now, often, are the cold north winds. One morning this week, the winds were around 30 mph - my walk was very short-lived. I felt like I might blow over when the wind was behind me, and it was tough to keep my face covered and warm when it was in front.

I wish you could see how hard those winds were blowing! I was just trying not to blow into the pond. (December 10, 2025)

What’s here now are the grebes swimming quietly into the cove. The pied-billed grebes are more common, but I have also seen a horned grebe this week. They’ve donned their more muted winter colors, and I seem to have donned mine as well. It’s funny how I’m drawn to different color clothing in the winter than in the summer months.

Pied-billed grebe swam in close in the low light just before sunrise.

What’s here now are the hungry hawks trying to navigate the changing landscape of winter. It’s the Cooper’s hawks I see most often as they buzz through and scare all the little birds away, and then land on a nearby branch to plot their next move.

Cooper’s hawk buzzed by my head before she landed and I heard the buzz of her wings. They are SO FAST.

What’s here now is a lot of mud and drying vegetation as the plant life prepares for winter. I take fewer photos this time of year as I have yet to figure out how to see the beauty in mud. I enjoy the slower pace, though, especially as the sun rises so late.

I guess a pipit posing in the mud is one way to see the beauty of the mud?

What’s here now are the stars and the moon. I see them so much more often this time of year, both when I wake up and in the evening as I sip the last cup of tea. I miss them deeply in the heart of summer, so I take them in now, while I can.

I miss the owls in the summer too. She was so kind to pose in front of the full moon, I don’t think I’ve ever taken such a photo before!

What’s here now is a lot of thank-yous falling from my lips. Thank you to the birds for being here year-round. Thank you to the trees for shelter from the brisk winds. Thank you to the warm clothes that block the wind and keep my body toasty even when it’s really cold. Thank you to whatever it is inside me that gets up and goes looking for beauty (almost) every day.

Extra big thank you’s for feathers on ice.

Some days, most days, all that matters is what’s here now.

I don’t always mention it, but I say a prayer of gratitude every day to everyone who supports this newsletter financially and all those that contribute to the comments or send me emails. You guys make such a difference for me!