Half an hour past sunrise, three sharp, rising notes turn out to be from a blue jay, who quickly switches to the familiar, declarative mode.
Month: October 2020
Walnuts crash down on the back roof. A raven comes croaking over the house, then returns a minute later, silent except for its wingbeats.
In the lily-of-the-valley bed decimated by drought, five blood-colored beads. The wind shuffles the leaves on the porch like playing cards.