Finches and chickadees shared the feeder with at least one titmouse. Gulls, including one great blackback, flew over the creek as mergansers dived. Squirrels and sparrows hunted seeds on the ground while juncos were everywhere. Crows provided the soundtrack. The dawn light gilded everything under a clear sky. The creek was disturbed by something fishing, but otherwise smooth. There was a lacewing on the screen.
A little later, a dove came looking for nesting fibers and paused by the birdbath. And a robin also wanted a drink. And then, mid-morning, a wren came to the feeder and posed. Geese paddled downstream on a surface now ruffled and olive green rather than reflective.
The sky was still blue at noon. Pelicans and herons flew past. Two wrens visited, one bathed while the other pecked at the patio. One wren perched on the grill tank and an insect flew past. When the wren tried to snatch it out of the air, it slid off the tank and plopped onto the patio.
A cloudless, golden sunset.
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