Birds of a Feather

Trying to get a good photo of the chicks is like trying to catch lightning in a bottle.  Those little boogers move like mercury!  There are three white, one black, and the two who came out speckled like quail are morphing into grey with dark heads.  I haven't yet been able to tell male from female because I can't get them to hold still long enough to check their combs. 

If I wait until the right moment, not too early before sundown, all the Silkies will put themselves to bed and save me the effort of herding the little pinballs up the ramp into the Taj.  Some people are clock watchers...I keep an eye on the sun.

Hearing an unknown bird call, I looked up to find the oriole has returned.  That flash of brilliant color is simply breath taking.  Luckily, he stuck around and was still in the oak when Dolly arrived.  I do like to show off.

The weather cooperated fully and my long-time friend and I were able to sit out on the deck in the warm afternoon breezes and play catch up.  It was a good day.