Mother Wren is in and out of her nest this morning with assorted wriggly bits. Her eggs must've hatched.

Woodpecker stops by and grumps at my proximity to the feeder, retreats to the woods to continue his complaints. I can't take a bird like that seriously.

Raucous cowardice of the bluejay: all the corvid cacophony without any of the wit.

The Gang of Squirrel is also unhappy with my repose, so many eyes glittering from pine bough and fence post, bushy tails flashing impatience for their shot at the seed cake, but I'm only half way through coffee and news, and am having a brilliant morning.