Even on the days of sunless mist, there are living things out there that are ready to brighten your day. The initial few moments were quiet... At first, even I thought there were no birds, but then I approached a treetop full of lesser goldfinches... their melancholy high tee-yee sounded more forlorn than usual against the gray sky.
Lesser, of course, is a misnomer, recognizing only their relative diminutiveness of size while failing to appreciate their extraordinary capacities of song or status as a regional specialty... their old folk name, green-backed goldfinch.
A white-breasted nuthatch honked invisibly from an oak, earning them their folk name, big quank. A flicker trumpeted in the distance and I searched for the bird... at last silhouetted against the sky near the top of a planted redwood.
A solitary black phoebe perched on a bench back, pausing from its fly-catching flights and puffing up against the chill. I ran into another busy flock... this time encountering a mostly grounded group of white-crowned sparrows.
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