I didn’t get a photo of either pileated woodpecker that I watched while I was there, but I now know that the “wild laughter” I heard came from them, not loons. It rained most of the time we were there. We said goodbye to Fred on Monday and I sent a piece of driftwood and a duck feather from the lake with him.
^^^The bones of the tree that I am weaving. I seldom see it bare.
^^^A melancholy evening in bed.
^^^The Easter Gator.
^^^A reminder that persistence pays off.
slowly she turned 