This morning was perfect for sitting on the patio with a book and notebook, with blue skies and temperatures in the 70s. The robins were clucking from all sides, and overhead I heard a hawk-like cry that turned out to be a jay gliding on the breeze: blue slicing blue.
The catbirds are back, skulking and mewing from the shrubs. And further off, I heard the sound of lawnmowers, the ubiquitous soundtrack of the summer suburbs.
Hoarded Ordinaries 
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