Last light for old leaves.

I don't always pay a lot of attention to dead leaves that hang around until spring, but yesterday they were doing such tricks with the sunlight that I couldn't help but notice. (They did their tricks tonight, as well, but I saw them chiefly from the upstairs windows in my house, where the seeing is less good than down on the ground.)

Here, too, is the nuthatch who mewled while I walked around yesterday. Or at least one of them. I couldn't get today's tufted titmice, either: they are too quick, too frantic. They only land provisionally.

And tonight while I work, owls whoo whoo in the woods nearby.