This jumble of impossible brilliance in the understory is the site of a scurry of white-throated sparrows. We have thrown down mixed seed into this tangle of small red maples that are trying to push up through Virginia creeper. The sparrows are here for the day, resting and feeding. Those here tomorrow will be a different flock, as wave after wave come through on these clear, cold nights. May they find enough food to sustain flight; may they dodge storms and other dangers on their journey south.
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