�

�� Midwinter�

�

�

�

�On the dry branches of trees

�

�

�Tiny little mess�

�

They line up

�

Row

�

�

�Preening one's feathers

�

�

�of which�

�

Just

�

��

�

�

wings

�

�

�

�Fly to the ground

�

�

�Jumping around in the snow all over the ground

�

�

�Looking for what may exist�

�

thing

�

�

�

�

�

He dropped his hand

�

crumbs

�

�

�Lots of trouble�

�

They

�

Come over here

�

�

�Dai�

�

cotton hat

�

�

�

system

�

Apron Bakery�

�

�

straighten up

�

�

� Pat the remaining crumbs off your hands

�

�

�

�

�

�crunch�

�

��

�

Voice

�

�

�The sound of bicycle braking�

�

��

�

Come

�
To be continued...