I awoke to find these little birds all over my yard, flitting from place to place and never holding still.  I believe they are the dark-eyed Junco, Oregon female, who have made their way here.  They have been in the garden all summer, but in small numbers.  Maybe they are gathering to start heading back south.

Had my fourth singing lesson and I'm wondering if I can still sing well enough to join a choral group at some point down the road.  The voice feels rusty and tired, but the exercises are great. I love really belting out the "ooo" sound.  Time to start practicing daily...

“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.”
― Emily Dickinson