I spent a few minutes in the yard this evening, and gradually became aware of the birdsong. Meadow larks, singing loud and clear and close, instead of the one distant call that made me hold my breath earlier this week. Killdeer, their repetitive call slowly gaining my attention from the background. A mourning dove. And — right there on that branch — a robin! I wonder how long they've been fluttering about just outside the edges of my consciousness.
And then a rumble. Is it a motorcycle revving up, or the first thunder of the season?
A comment from one reading over my shoulder: Ruth heard a phoebe today.
you can't eat it
2 weeks ago