We all live off His generous bounty,
gift after gift after gift.
John 1:16
Robins are on the move. Last weekend, from his vantage point in a tree stand in the woods, Don watched wave after wave of them pass low overhead, with red breasts lit by the morning sun, their mass darkening the sky.
This week, on a gray morning walk through the cedars, I heard the sound before I saw them, thousands of twitters massed into a grand symphony. I stopped to watch and listen, and while Barley gnawed on a bone, the music enveloped me.
