Maybe it was my dad telling me when I was a child that the first thing he did every morning was look out the window. Maybe it was spending so much time outdoors as a child, and camping a lot as an adult. Maybe it was reading The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder, reading about how a Native American man clued Pa in to the coming severe winter, based on signs he could see from the animals. Maybe it was all of that, but I've learned both to love nature and also to realize that animals often know when a storm is coming. We may know, with all our science, but so do they, it seems.
I looked out the window to see a lone large animal in a neighbor's yard. I think it was a buck. Since moving here, I have often seen a deer family, doe and fawns, acting at home, nibbling, and then gracefully running off. But, this morning, it was a lone buck, walking, perhaps cautiously. It seemed almost as if he was taking something in or figuring something out.
And then the snow began in earnest. I don't know where the birds were going, but I think they knew what was coming.