Air temperature 49 F, calm, clear skies for the newspaper walk. Neighborhood crow gang includes a number of fledglings with horrible voices. I mean, even for *crows* . . .
Our resident song-sparrow feels compelled to sing, very loud, from the spirea bush whenever I mow our lawn. He doesn't seem to be protecting a nest, but views us as rivals . . .
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timeasmymeasure