Bring in the metal square from the workshop, carpentry and quilting having something in common — the straight edge, the shared adage, Measure twice, cut once. Bring it in, your hands icy, and stand it by the woodstove to warm up. Is that ice you hear or the tiny sound of chickadees jostling for position at the feeder? Is it ice? In the night you saw stars.
A chickadee lands on your wrists as you fill the feeder. In the bare forsythia, 12 of them wait more patiently. Put out a bowl of warm water. Gather some stones so they can balance as they drink. Scatter seed for the varied thrushes, the ground-feeders. You wish you’d bought suet.
Yesterday you chose fabric for a patchwork, blues, some yellow, scraps of red to cobble together. You found your measuring tape, a forgotten length of ikat. In the trunk, some silk, deep purple velvet, a lace tablecloth gnawed by rats in a netshed near Egmont. You leave those alone.
It is too cold for mice and men. Too cold for the Anna’s hummingbirds who come to the feeder, too cold to hover. They stand on the nectar tubes, exhausted. Every hour you bring in the feeder to thaw it in hot water. Too cold to think about pruning, to begin the garden work you’ve put off for weeks. In the honeysuckle over the garden gate, the hummingbirds are nesting. The tiniest of eggs in a bowl of lichens and spiderwebs, lined with plant down. Bring in their feeder to thaw it in warm water. Don’t even think about pruning.
...Theresa Kishkan 
Hah, don’t even think about pruning! 🙂
I’ve read that suet is unexpectedly easy to make (but I’ve not found a substitute for the non-vegetarian elements in the recipes).
The rituals of having feathered friends are so relatable.
No pruning today either! And yesterday I bought some suet cakes to hang out. Mostly it’s the Steller’s jays who hang on the suet holder but some years Downy and Hairy woodpeckers come. There’s hope!
Let the feasts begin!