Spring Must Be Pretty Close

Even if I walk as silently as possible, little brown birds explode out of the weedy garden as soon as my feet hit the path. They don't let me get too close. Seems like dozens of them whirr up and over the fence, even when I think I'm being sneaky and clever. I spotted these two when I was still on the stoop. The portrait in Extras was pure luck. And the mourning dove was keeping an eye on things over in the next block. Each in its own way is so incredibly beautiful. I never realized how colorful the doves are. We're in for more weather--I hope they all find safe places to rest.