It feels strange to hear the birds singing so happily while the river surrounds us with cold brown water. To them, this must be paradise. There is a large flock of geese honking in the body of water that pours over our road. The juncoes are bathing in our yard and picking through last year's sunflowers. Robins hop around the water's edge, occasionally reaching down for something edible. Trees with wet feet have blackbirds in the dry top branches. A red squirrel chatters from the roof of the shed. The county placed roadblocks on both sides of us and most gawkers turn back. It has been quiet and peaceful for most of the island residents today.
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