Visit

A flock of migrating birds visited us recently.

Chirping, swooping, constantly trading places on the bench, the fence, the tree.

It was like some kind of wild ballet, with no perceivable rhythm, yet lovely and melodic all the same.

Wary little things, I wasn't able to sneak up close enough to get their identity.

But the four of us were entertained for several long minutes as they bathed in the fishpond waterfall, snacked on seeds from the Mountain Ash tree, played in the tippy-tops of a few Douglas Fir trees, then... gone.