My coat smelled strongly of woodsmoke this morning when I put it on and headed out to the park to look at some birds.
There were lots of birds. And, true to reputation, the birds in New York City were right up in your face, unlike the birds of Western Massachusetts who were quite reticent. I did see a beautiful Golden-crowned Kinglet twice in the center cemetery this week, a bird I had never seen before here or there who is tiny and wonderful.
This fall I picked a permanent roost hole. It makes me feel at home to know the hawks are my neighbors, and downy woodpeckers, the ruddy ducks (seasonally) and the jays and all the other wild creatures who live in the city.