Between revisions now, recharging. Tending to a long list of neglected chores. Daydreaming. Bird watching. The Gray Catbird* I watched inspired a dashed-off poem in her honor:
Grey and sly
in the dusk
in the enemy’s tongue.
From the Cornell Lab of Ornithology:
*Rather plain but with lots of personality, the Gray Catbird often hides in the shrubbery, making an odd variety of musical and harsh sounds -- including the catlike mewing responsible for its name. At other times it moves about boldly in the open, jerking its long tail expressively.