No frost yet; the purple geranium still flowers. Reflected sun from an upstairs window illuminates one yellow grape leaf.
Sun through thin clouds. Over the wind, the sound of an electric chainsaw cutting and muttering.
A starling flock leaves the big ash tree all at once, their cacophony turned into a hush of wings. The sun comes almost fully out.
Clear and cold. A contrail feathers in several directions. The dog makes a half-hearted run at a wood pigeon, who takes a half-hearted hop.
Bright sun illuminates the fading elder leaves, bejewels the rain-soaked grass, polishes the fresh dog turd.
Dawn. A gull flies sideways below lowering clouds. The silhouette of a small cat appears on the wall behind the neighbor’s bird feeder.
Rain and sun together. A goldfinch gleans seeds stuck to the shit-splattered leaves below the feeder.
Looking out at the pouring rain and a few sodden birds hunched at the feeders, I catch a whiff of pancakes through the walls.
On a gray day, the goldfinches’ faces look redder than ever. A dunnock enters the cage with the suet and settles in to eat.
Bright sun at last! I notice that the bottommost layer of seeds in the bird feeder have sprouted.