A hint of dampness entered the air last evening, and gradually clouds formed, the moon became vague, the leaves of the sourgrass began to sparkle with dewdrops as fine as dust. One of the cats became eager to go out. When I opened the door for her, I heard rustling in the wild plum bushes, then the soft clop of hooves hurrying on the pavement. I had disturbed several deer, and they passed into the yard of the corner house where they triggered the motion sensing lights. I could see them silhouetted then, the rays of light turning the thin haze of fog about them into halos. The inquisitive cat went to sniff the ground the deer had trodden, and I watched the small herd depart the circle of light. Just then, the calls of another flock of migrating birds rang out, soon followed by the sound of their wings. The temperature has dropped since last night, but the birds are undeterred. They continue their flights northward, suggesting that the coming rain will be more spring-like than wintry. I am inclined to trust their instincts, and suspect that the remainder of the season will be mild. Birds are apt to be smarter than people who make up silly tales about groundhogs.
Update: Found it. It is The Digital Imaging Project, a collection of 10,000 images of architecture and sculpture. No time for me to explore it now, though. I see a hint of rose touching the eastern clouds, and I must sleep.