Forget the Caribbean

It would be easy to see oneself living on a small island in the Caribbean--snorkeling, drinking fruity rum drinks from cheap plastic cups at 2 pm, wearing a sunhat to keep the burn at bay. Working? Well, that's a different story. How to pay for the $5/jar peanut butter and $10 frozen pizza, because let's face it, when you work, sometimes you come home and eat peanut butter from the jar. While standing, and waiting for the oven to preheat.

My thoughts are once again on the tropics because it's -4F out, the windchill's probably -15F or -20F. Yet the house sparrows, the chickadees, the cardinals, the house finches, and the morning doves insist on persisting. I am worrying that the feeder is almost empty and that could lead to some wee ones' demises. I need to get to the store to buy more fatty sunflower seeds in the shell.

A month ago while in Chicago and the windchill was over -25F, the difference between my hotel room temperature and the outside was over 100 degrees. I am going to say this outloud: That's just plain ridiculous.

Today, at home the sky is stark blue, the steam from the neighbor's chimney casting a shadow on the snow in the early morning yard. Bug is shredding a magazine in his box, and I am wishing for a warm beach.

It's ridiculous, I thought also, when I got to St. John last May--the turquoise water, the white sand beach, the loggerhead turtles 10 feet from the shoreline. I mean, this is the same planet as below zero temps and endless prairies of the Midwest? Eagle ray vs. glare ice on the windshield, tamarind trees vs. the brittle leaflesss arms of a willow?

I see the beauty in starkness. I do. The simplicity of form, the silhouette against white.

But I can't seem to get in the car to go to the store to buy more seed, so my petite friends can keep on going. They don't know their tiny bodies have a large surface area to volume ratio, so that's why heat keeps pouring off them and they have to eat eat eat eat.

I eat in the winter for other reasons, as so do you probably, too. Fried food seems especially magnificent and alluring when you have to wear a hat and mittens, boots and a down coat out of the house. If you are going to go to all the trouble to leave the warm, heated abode, then why not eat the greased and crispy? That's what the birds do, but they have no cozy slippers or space heaters to leave at home when they venture out.

Bug just flew into the office to sit on the desk in a patch of sun. Then he began to sneeze and pick at his nostril with a toenail. His nose is dry--I've got to go set up his humidifier, and then maybe later, get him to take a bath, dip his head in a bowl.

I am sure he'd prefer the steamier Caribbean, but how would he pay the bills, eh?