My friend Kathy dropped by about two weeks ago with a bag of combings from her shedding dog. Very soft. Grays fading to off-white, a little possum-ish in color.

I’ve been putting bits of it out among the amaryllis pots. Small clumps here, a few wisps there–I figure if I offer a buffet the nesting birds will take it the way they want it.

The Bewick’s wrens took off with just the tiniest bit of fluff. They came at first but seem to be done now.

But the chickadees–they came the first day and they keep on coming. They dive right into the biggest bunches of that fur again and again till their beaks are so stuffed that their flight away is comically wobbly.

Windspeed, little ones.