I know this because I am an aging Maine snowbird who has foolishly chosen to spend winter months in a warmer climate. But this year, things have gone terribly wrong. My flight south, usually straight forward and uneventful, with stops here and there to grab some seeds and tweet old friends, was anything but smooth. Turbulence was extreme and really tough on this tiny tummy. Usual winter flight patterns were suddenly unpredictable. As I approached the true south, unconventional snow and sleet were all over the place — a major problem as it stuck to my soft, fragile wings.

I was perched high up in an ice laden pine tree in South Carolina, when I took a look down at the traffic jams, accidents and general mess. It was obvious that these folks didn’t have a clue as to how to manage a winter storm. I’m aware that these conditions are not a frequent happening down south, but really, folks, if a snowbird can manage without overheating or having a sliding crash, can’t the average human being?

Now, this kind of weather is a piece of cake for Maine. Snow removal equipment is out and clearing the roads in a flash. Power outages are up and running again in a New York minute thanks to Central Maine Power.

As weather conditions intensify here in the south, people slip and slide in every direction as they scramble to shop for bread, milk and fake logs. All of this made me a bit homesick, so I decide to focus my frayed bird-brain on my great state of Maine. I imagined the breathless beauty of a summer day there. My little bird body warms to the thought of lighting in a lovely, leafy tree and gazing down on luscious gardens with happy flower faces reaching up and out to a brilliant sun.

In case you haven’t been there, you should know that there are no skies anywhere that are as paint box perfect as they are in Maine. (And I should know, I fly them daily.) The clouds are a puffier white. The skies are bluebird blue. The air, ah, the air is a joy to breathe, so clean and so fresh. When winter comes to Maine and the soft, floating snow settles everywhere, a postcard scene is out every window. Precious black capped chickadees line up on snow covered limbs, taking turns at the thoughtful bird feeder you’ve provided. An occasional gull pierces the winter blue background sky. Heavenly!

As a summer day fades into evening, it’s sunset time and sunsets in Maine can be so intense they bring tears to your eyes. Linger by one of Maine’s picturesque lakes or glassy still coves and witness a double sunset as it’s reflected in the still waters.

Now, I realize everyone doesn’t believe in a God, but let them visit Maine just once and they confess to sensing something ethereal about the place. And then, you can always count on that familiar question, “What is it about Maine?”

This snowbird is really missing the magic of Maine today, and so I’m asking, as I always do about this time down south, “What am I doing here?”