Of crows, that is. We have a murder living right here—more than five, probably less than 10. It's quite clear that they own the property—were here first, and expect to be here long after. They are quite demonstrative of their opprobrium when we have the temerity to walk around or do any yard work. And, they are early risers, extremely vocal in their morning discussions.

High summer here now. No more vernal pools. No more swales overflowing. Orange hawkweed joining the flowering daisies. Water warm enough to swim, which I did today (taking my feet off the ground but not, using discretion, dunking under).

And, as depicted in the photo above, the first transient yacht in the marina, this trawler making an early morning departure after a tranquil night.