|Cawing crow, mostly in silhouette. On a hemlock branch.|
|Happy harlequins, on a calm sea.|
And in the forest, a woodpecker pounded away on a tree, over and over, pausing between each sequence; to dig out a grub? Listen for fleeing grubs? Wait for his brain to stop ringing? Not long, anyhow. I heard him, walked down the trail until I located the tree, and stood squinting against the light, trying to see the bird. Impossible. Until he decided to switch trees, and I caught a glimpse of his shadow as he disappeared behind a fat old Douglas fir.