A field sparrow pops up, a seed in its bill, to peek at me. I hope I've gotten him in the photo, but I can't tell on my phone. I look for a long time on the laptop screen until I find him. How sweet!! Hint: he's on the left margin of the tangle in the blow-up below. If you click on the photo, you'll get an even larger version.
As hard as it is to say goodbye to color like this, I'm already looking forward to walking here, looking for sheds next February and March.
I thrive on the season changes here. October is my favorite month. Spring's too busy, too full, too hurly-burly. October is reflective, alone, and so heartbreakingly beautiful, ephemeral. October is a leavetaking, not a coming on. It's bittersweet. The poet and painter in me has to mix sadness with joy, dreary tones with color. They make the color all the brighter.
I look back at the deer, and they're still lying down. Score one for the walker and her dog. My goal is always to avoid changing the behavior of the animals and birds I observe. If they feel safe enough to lie down and start ruminating, who am I to walk up on them and put them to flight?
Time to head home, little Chet Baker. We'll leave the does in peace.