rhea

 the wrought iron gate at the top of the stairs marks the border between the damp noisy squalor of the slushy town to the pristine white ground of the parks paths. They climb all the way up the bluffs on this side of the river, between the tall trees.
The trees are all bare, they are all deciduous trees here. Their grey trunks have a clear contrast to the white snow, and the falling snowflakes lend the park a grainy structure. Take the path up to the devil's bridge, nobody has been this way since the snow started. There are no footsteps.
Climb the path carefully, there is icy stuff under the snow. Just before reaching the wooden structure of the bridge, a movement lower down the slopes. There are deer between the trees down there, two of them. They slowly go about their business, maybe looking for things to feed on in the snow.
Later, at the top of the bluff, watch the rhea birds in their fenced off area. The large flightless birds have gathered under one of the few evergreens, taking shelter from the snow. One of the flock walks over, curious and hopeful of being fed. It reaches through the fence and nibbles at the shoulder bag containing the camera. Reach over the fence, maybe  it likes to have it's head scratched. It nibbles at the sleeve of the jacket.
Wander on around the park, enjoying the fresh air and the fresh snow. It is almost windstill and the snow is pouring out of the sky in big slow flakes.

Rhea and fence 25 jan 2021