By 6:17 AM, an American Robin and a Song Sparrow are already singing. It’s clear and calm and 28 degrees, heading down to 26. Something, I think a cardinal, explodes from behind a building by the river to my right and drops back down to Bald Eagle Creek over beyond the 10th Street bridge. The junkyard raven starts its twilight honking.
In Like a Lamb
In Like a Lamb
In Like a Lamb
By 6:17 AM, an American Robin and a Song Sparrow are already singing. It’s clear and calm and 28 degrees, heading down to 26. Something, I think a cardinal, explodes from behind a building by the river to my right and drops back down to Bald Eagle Creek over beyond the 10th Street bridge. The junkyard raven starts its twilight honking.