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Saturday September 10th 2011    Tim Candler

   Saw a Cuckoo low across the field and I heard the Tanager yesterday.  It was in the evening and the Tanager's call was muted.  Cedar Mockingbird hides.  Field Sparrows stay close to cover.  And we all watch the electric line for the Doves that sit along it. 

    For some reason Doves have taken to a recklessness and have abandoned themselves to what I can only describe as reluctance to face winter.  They are falling like flies to the visitor.  And damn how I wish I could shoot straight enough to relieve us all of the burden he has put upon us. 

     The young Dove is an innocent.  He'll stare at you politely as though you were strangers waiting to be introduced.  And then there are portly Doves, who have fed so well in the time of plenty that flying away is always to be avoided because of the effort it requires.  And anyway, it's a well known fact, raptors like their food nervous and twittering.

     It's about six or seven weeks until chances of frost. And maybe if it is busy somewhere in town, I can find an hourly wage.  I'll call it aversion therapy.  

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