The Little Birds are Gone

Suddenly I am not refilling the thistle-seed feeders. The little birds are gone--the siskins and goldfinches and Cassin's finches--gone until new winter migrants arrive.

Somehow I missed the departure of the black-headed grosbeaks too.

Only the jays and an occasional evening grosbeak peck at the sunflower-seed feeders.

The broad-tailed hummingbirds are still here.

And in the woods, the hermit thrush's distant song is replaced by the call of the white-breasted nuthatch--like a little tin horn blown by a tiny clown who is always somewhere farther away.