One of the nicest things about late autumn in the Midwest is walking out into a crisp, clear morning and hearing a treeful of birds - not singing, just chirping away, and a few of them flitting about.
Even better - though I was not granted that today - is watching a great flock of them wheeling through the skies, not, apparently, going anywhere, but just sweeping in great arcs overhead.
Even better - though I was not granted that today - is watching a great flock of them wheeling through the skies, not, apparently, going anywhere, but just sweeping in great arcs overhead.