These photos are pretty much the same every day, so I’m going to post fewer.
At least seventeen crows this morning, all of them loud.
And hungry.
And in a hurry.

And they shouldn’t dawdle. A new predator is on the scene:

Is there beauty in death?

Not really. But flowers are getting harder to find.

And I’m still adjusting to the new coffee ritual.
I’ll get there.




