A riot of birdsong this morning at 5, and I hear tree frogs. The Cooper’s hawks continue to build their nest a few doors down, and frequent our yard and trees, the crows hounding them. Last night I saw what I first thought was a mockingbird up in the top of a tree outside my Friday night meeting place, singing his little heart out, but his rusty color had me baffled- turns out he was a brown thrasher. Same family as the mocker, but with a wider repertoire. Ginger tells me they have 3000 songs. Today will dig in the dirt, split some old old hosta, watch the outdoors. Tomorrow to the arboretum if it doesn’t rain, with a friend and her children.