On the Doorstep: The dimming of the days
Kids back in school, and a crisp 68 degrees. I would swear it was late September. We flush a mourning dove along our path, and a squirrel keeps a wary eye out as we pass under his cow oak perch. The town is still waking up, and few cars pass to break the spell.
But then, as I walk near my office this morning, I hear a sound that tells me it is still summer. Overhead comes the phee-yew call of the Mississippi kite. I look up into the clear blue above me and see the bird’s familiar silhouette. Again, “Phee-yew.”
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