Broad-winged hawks have glided their way down the mountains of Vermont on their ancient migration routes. Warblers, many thrushes, and songbirds have gone. I am at the Cape, where tens of thousands of swallows congregate to feed on waxy bayberries as they migrate south. I think of home in East Montpelier, a quiet morning, frost almost in the air, the trees just turning, before the waves of sparrows and juncos come through.
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