Bought another pile of candy, for my second attempt at getting a group of people to make monster cupcakes with me on Halloween.
**The young Roadrunner & I, startling one another in the corner of G's yard. This is the closest I've ever been to one. I froze. It froze. What perfect camouflage it had, in her dry tall fall grass.
**Three Whooping Cranes pass overhead a bit later. So high up. Specks. And that unmistakable call, call, call. How high up? Blasting along on a wind river I had no idea was there. Invisible white water. Rapid Swift Knots per Hour. Airspeed. Tailwind. South, south, south, calling the whole time. Calling at roughly the interval of my heartbeat. The two-tone two-note. It's so loud down here, three football fields away, why don't they go stone deaf yelling at each other like that from a couple of carlengths?! Big Honkin' Birds.
**Pairs of black sable squirrels with tufted ears.
**Startling 2 young deer on the mountainside, the shadowy face. Almost invisible, even after you've looked them in the eyes and know precisely where they are standing. They disappear in front of your very nose. Then tease you with a twitch of an ear; the motion grabs all your senses. As if you could smell them out. Late afternoon. The sun reaching only the tops of the trees as the crest above our heads stealing the rest for the west face while we shivered.
**The woman hiking on crutches. The tiny trickle of a stream. The flock of very shy birds drinking. Wings. Who knew they made so much sound; they're clumsy! laughed Gloria. And they were, sort of. We froze and stood very very still. After several long minutes, they started to gather. And return to drinking or hunting bugs or flirting. Hell, I don't know. But that sound, the shirr of wings a few feet away, partially hidden by bushes and young trees. Makes you believe in fairies and angels. Flying is not silent.