Last evening, I went out at dusk to explore our Littleton farm. Most of the bird sightings were of mallards, great blue herons and ring-billed gulls, heading toward their nightly quarters to our northwest.
A squadron of small bats strafed the farm and our colony of cottontails emerged for a leisurely night of nibbling. Off toward a corner of the property, a noisy flock of magpies had gathered in a tree, apparently heckling a hawk or owl. Above it all, jets drifted toward DIA and the clouds took on the changing hues of sunset. Not to be outdone by Earthly events, Jupiter gleamed from the southwest while Saturn sparkled in the southern sky.
The highlight of my evening stroll proved to be a flock of pink egrets, fourteen in number, flapping toward a roost somewhere north of the farm; of course, they were snowy egrets, painted by the last rays of the setting sun. Apparently unfazed by the cooler weather, they will spend at least another day along the Front Range before heading south.
A squadron of small bats strafed the farm and our colony of cottontails emerged for a leisurely night of nibbling. Off toward a corner of the property, a noisy flock of magpies had gathered in a tree, apparently heckling a hawk or owl. Above it all, jets drifted toward DIA and the clouds took on the changing hues of sunset. Not to be outdone by Earthly events, Jupiter gleamed from the southwest while Saturn sparkled in the southern sky.
The highlight of my evening stroll proved to be a flock of pink egrets, fourteen in number, flapping toward a roost somewhere north of the farm; of course, they were snowy egrets, painted by the last rays of the setting sun. Apparently unfazed by the cooler weather, they will spend at least another day along the Front Range before heading south.
