Communal Bath

Our city- community- yard- must be on the robins' migratory route.

We noticed them in the spring.

Dozens of robins hopping around, pecking the grass for worms or grubs or whatever it is that robins eat. 

Flitting happily from tree to tree.

Avoiding the crows.

Hanging with the sparrows.

I've been noticing them again yesterday and today.

Winter must be coming.

You can hear the Canada Geese two blocks from their North Saskatchewan River hangout; they drop down for a breather... just chillin' and making a lot of noise.

And those skittish, little, excitable birds are around again. You know, the ones that go about in a mass of tiny, fluttery wings; they skitter from tree top to tree top, and when they're on the move they look like a horde of killer bees, swarming around... unsure of which direction they will choose to go...

The sky has been blue and grey and shades of slate in between, and the leaves are turning gold and neon yellow, and red and brown... and dropping...

And the grass is being buried under the dried leaves, giving glimpses of green where it remains uncovered,  like toes peeking out of the blankets.

And the ladybugs are looking for a winter hideout. Crawling on both sides of the window. I let them crawl,  hoping they'll find a nook or cranny here,  emerging in the spring to eat mosquitos and fruit flies.  

From the east window of the kitchen I can watch the puddle that has formed in a hollow at the end of the driveway.

And the robins taking a bath.