Flutter-utter-utter-utter-utter....
Flutter-utter-utter-utter-utter....
The clutches of brown sparrows swirl and land and swirl anew along the block. It is as if they were mimicking the autumn leaves that have yet to fall. Their small chirps mingle with the staid mourning doves and occasional -- very occasional as yet -- calling of an early blue jay.
It's summer still. August. But the time approaches when mourning doves will mosey on and jays will multiply and claim the sound-spaces built for them -- they are such a cheeky lot. Autumn is soon but not yet.
Someone's got to be first in line.
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