It's a sin that somehow light is changing to shadow And casting its shroud over all we have known Unaware how the ranks have grown, driven on by a heart of stone We could find that we're all alone in the dream of the proud
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Here you see the aftermath of the grackles passing through. That's my deck/patio/balcony and on Friday night, it was clear of leaves, acorns, etc. My attempts to photograph the flock were less successful. Maybe when they go by on the ground later in the year I'll be able to capture some good photographs of them.