The feral cat was back at breakfast. And so the birds were not. The cat sat on part of the cover that was over the water. Maybe that was warmer? And the cat returned at supper, this time on the concrete.
An interesting crane fly hugged the wall out of the wind. Despite the gray sky and chilly wind, flowers were blooming. A lost kayak paddle bobbed on the creek. A Carolina wren briefly inspected the mealworms I had put out, but left without eating. We decided where to plant the two pots of milkweed. K wanted a rosebush moved.
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