There seems not much to be seen this morning, not much worth leaving my hot cup of tea for and wandering about in this damp coldness…
The early risers among the crows are back to their nut fest. All day long while the walnuts last they will be about their aerial stunts, flying high, nut in beak, only to drop it and spiral down in swift pursuit to snatch it as it hits the pavement and extract the nut meats. These early birds are lucky, very little competition. But they decline having their stunts photographed…They work for live only audiences. And such was I one lazy afternoon this week.
Out back, the willow tree is busy laying down leaves to ensure we stay active as fall settles in…
The lilac lingers golden…ho, hum.
But the clothespins are transfixed with morning dew, every drop a lens!
Then I hear it overhead, the migrating squadron of what I at first take to be geese… But listen:
Now that was worth braving the morning chill for ( ;
And as I type I hear the real mcCoy—passing geese, making a ruckus as they get into formation for the day’s flight…This, and the croak of crows, is the sound of Fall…
Praise ye the LORD. Praise God in his sanctuary: praise him in the firmament of his power….
Let every thing that hath breath praise the LORD. Praise ye the LORD.