Spring has sprung, and with it the goldfinches have fled northward. Same with the yellow-rumped and pine warblers. Gone.
All that remains are the locals, of which the white-winged dove are the most vocal.
A casual strafing by a rubythroat days ago appears to be anecdotal... my newly hung feeders remain unsipped.
The screech owl family has found a new nesting site in the large water oak next door, much to the disappointment of the evicted squirrels who were using that cavity. Bird paybacks for the rodent's feeder pouncings.
Occasional Cooper's hawks race dove through the lower boughs of the back yard, and a new red-tailed juvenile wanders through overhead, hoping to find an untrained bushy-tailed tree rat vulnerable in some spacious yard.
It's St. Patricks Day, and I am thankful for not seeing snakes.
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