I’ve had a little morning ritual for years now.

There’s one bird I’ve grown especially fond of — a bright red Northern Cardinal. He’s a regular. Always darting in and out with that quick, confident hop, grabbing a seed and tossing his crest in the air like he knows he’s the star of the show.

But today… today was different.

I was mid-sip when he appeared on the feeder, and for a split second, I thought something was wrong with my camera colors. Standing right beside him was another cardinal — but glowing golden yellow.

A Yellow Cardinal. I’ve read about them before, how rare they are — one in a million, some say. And yet, here it was, right next to my old red friend, both of them pecking at the seeds like they’d known each other forever.

For a few magical minutes, I just sat there, coffee going cold, watching red and yellow feathers flash against the winter branches. They seemed happy. Comfortable. Completely unaware they’d just made my whole year.

I don’t know if I’ll ever see that yellow cardinal again. But this morning, my ordinary little ritual became a once-in-a-lifetime memory — and it’s one I’ll never forget.