Here are the birds that I was able to photograph on a chilly January morning:
NATURE POETRY
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown. – Keats
I didn’t realize that Buffleheads could be so iridescent!
You can certainly count on this place for wonderful winter duck viewing. Thanks, Miles!