It has become extremely rare to find a Phoebe's nest anywhere except in a man-made structure, but this morning I located just such a nest in the root ball of an ice storm toppled pine. It was as nicely sheltered by the overhanging upper root edge as any nest I've ever seen under a human roof.
In the field, orange Hawkweed opened its first few blossoms of the year, and along the road Ragged Robin with its skeletal pink petals and thin wiry stems appeared very aptly named. And Yellow Goat's Beard tipped its face to the early sun before closing at midday.
John
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