Drab morning under a gray sky; a cold, southeast breeze chills my face. A robin sings its cheery spring song, another robin chuckles, while a third one sounds an alarm call from the woods.
Sunday, March 28, 2021
Robin Song
Saturday, March 27, 2021
Crows on Morning Foray
Six crows fly east across the field, while a more raucous group of eight circle Bald Hill, land on the tallest pines, then fall silent. A light wind carries no foul odors.
Phoebe arrived in our yard today.
Friday, March 26, 2021
Light Rain
Light rain and mid-40s overnight; one spring peeper on the road--dead. Sweet fragrance of fresh wood chips, the remnants of Asplundh's clearing of the powerline along our road yesterday. Woodcock continue to rule the predawn songscape.
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