This fellow, a lone Orange-crowned warbler, has spent the entire winter and fall in the valley I live in in Newfoundland. And he looks none the worse for being here instead of, say, Costa Rica where most of his relatives spent the same time.

Hereabouts, he hangs out with and travels with a roving band of raucous goldfinches. So when I hear them in the backyard, I get up from my reading, grab the camera and look for this one.

And this morning he sat in the falling April snow for his turnbuckle portrait. ("Is this my best side? How about this side? Are my yellow streaks showing much yet?”)