It's a wonder the suet didn't melt. Nevertheless, at breakfast a red bellied woodpecker pecked away at it. A brown thrasher was next, but it was awkward and made the suet spin around. Meanwhile, the other brown thrasher went after the leftovers in the barkbutter cup.
The immature eagle landed on a dock piling. It seemed fascinated by something below it. I wondered if it had dropped breakfast into a crevice. I took too many photos of the bird. Curiously, the crows left it alone.
The temperature set a record of 84
° and, naturally, the AC passed out. Troubles like that favor Fridays, I've noticed. "Finagle's law." I got outside in the late afternoon and bribed the birds with a fresh cup of barkbutter balls. A blue jay peered at me and calculated it's chance of making off with a snack. A mockingbird went through the same silly routine. So did a brown thrasher. A bluebird was more nonchalant. A yellow rumped warbler decided it preferred suet. So did a bold downy woodpecker. The breeze set the oak tassels flying.
The moon was nearly full but rose before dark. Skies had been cloudy in the evening for most of this lunar month so I enjoyed seeing the familiar craters.
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