The creek was exquisite at low tide in the early morning light. The yellow long-haired cat tried to hunt birds under the feeders. I need a Rube Goldberg device that would dump water on birdwatching cats. A couple of brown headed nuthatches ignored the cat. A white throated sparrow perched in one of the dogwoods out of reach. A pine warble landed on the feeder roof, then on the suet remnant.
The temperature rose to 73°. I emptied the bluebird house and, thankfully, found no eggs. Carolina jessamine, daffodils, dandelions, and buttercups gilded the greenery. Hyacinths and a few azalea blossoms added other primary colors. I don't know why people think Spring is pastel.
An oriole perched in the maple, then visited the jelly. A bluebird found the barkbutter balls. So did a starling. A white breasted nuthatch made it to the feeder. A pileated woodpecker was disappointed because the suet cage was empty.
Some buds burst on the oak and dogwood. Buds on the blueberry bushes were close to opening and bees hovered around like it might happen any minute. I saw a cabbage white flitting around and after dark a tiny silver moth shaped like an isosceles triangle on the window. Spider threads lurked on the jessamine.
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