Sliding the glass door to my Florida backyard, I shuffled my slipper-clad feet and closed the opening behind me. The sun had broken through an early morning haze, warming my backyard to over 70 degrees F – a bright spot in what had been a generally gloomy February. Plopping myself down on a bright blue chair, I carefully placed my binoculars on my lap and picked up my knitting. My view? A straight shot to my bird feeder.

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