Glendale Shoals. Down in the woods, beside the creek, musicians are strumming their guitars. In the afternoon, it is nearly 70 degrees. People have left their igloos and TV sets and are down on the rocks with their cameras, shooting photos. A friend is gathering rocks with his son for a science project: a hard one, a soft one, a smooth one and a rough one.
A man is jogging shirtless. A woman is standing on a rock in the downstream in her Sunday dress. No ducks today.
The pair of Flycatchers is at their nest under the eaves. Soon there will be baby birds.
I planted a new white rose bush.
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