This is the time of year one expects to see bluebirds, so off I went to the park to search for blue- birds. There's one field filled with acorns on the ground. Bluebirds like the acorns. No bluebirds. Hundreds of hermit thrushes and juncos, endless amounts of both. Elsewhere there were more hermits, a couple of woodpeckers, more juncos, screaming bluejays. Oh boy, screamers often =
owl or hawk. The trees are still leaf-heavy. Hard to tell what was going on. Suddenly a hawk flew out of the treetop. Most likely Pale Male. After that the bluejays were quiet. It was cold. Time to head back here. And there on the lawn, once again, the sweet kinglets, all golden, no ruby crowned. Sorry to bore you to death, but I adore kinglets, and I'm this blog's editor. They won't be here forever, so I have to love them while they're here.