Thanksgiving dawned wet and dreary in Downeast Maine. It was a quiet day filled with baking and birdwatching from the sofa.

This Thanksgiving was particularly poignant for me because it was also Mom’s birthday—the second one we’ve spent without her. She was on my mind for much of the day, partly because of the joy her gift continues to bring me. At least six years ago—perhaps even more—she gifted me a fancy bird feeder pole. It was repaired a time or two after it tangled with a bear. And it’s brought lots of entertainment through the years.

On this Thanksgiving Day, Hannah and I huddled by the window, watching a newcomer at the feeder: a female Baltimore Oriole, vivid in her striking orange plumage. She stayed with us all day, darting in and out of view. Mom would have delighted in our joy.

Mom didn’t know Murphee, but she would have loved her; she had an affinity for all house pets. She would have been tickled with Murphee’s joy at the wildlife this feeder brings into our little window into the world.

I’m feeling thankful for all of the the years I did have with mom and the joy her gifts have brought to us.