winter birds and bad light
It’s been overcast and flat. Lisa and I took a run up the creek. We couldn’t push through the clouds. It seemed warmer in the mountains, but it could have just been our excitement. We don’t get out like we did with our dogs.
I looked for birds. Everything is a silhouette in this kind of light. Lisa pointed them out. Her eyes are better than mine. I can’t see them unless they fly, but then it’s too late. Winter birds are special.
If there were a skill I wish I had it would be to recognize birds by song or flight or shitty light. It’ll take more than a few lifetimes to get good at it.