Yesterday was grey and rainy here in Pure Florida.
A drab day by most accounts, but not in my woods. My trees and the ground around them were alive with birds. All the locals, plus a bunch of twittery migrants moving through.
The most impressive migrants were the hundreds of robins on the forest floor, in the garden, on the lawn. They were everywhere.
Robins like that make me think of my Aunt Florence.
My cousin n law(?) John, told me a story once about the first time my cousin Linda brought him home to meet the parents. It was dinner time and the family sat down to a specialty of Aunt Florence's ... Robin Pie.
He said it was good.