This evening I observed a flock of foraging Blackpoll warblers as they chipped with seeping voices amid the leaves. A bold Cape May warbler spiraled down to the grass in pursuit of an insect, an autumn leaf twirling from its tree. He dipped lightning-quick back into the branches as a sprightly bunch of Ruby-crowned Kinglets occupied the hedge line. They were quite fearless and came very close, looking at me with round, blank stares.
A young male Common Yellowthroat sulked in the dead twigs below the kinglets, his yellow breast and throat glowing amid the darkness. His robust form dipped up and down with his olive back and black mask gently blending with the brush.
A House Wren sneaked by in the background, careful to only show himself a few times before flitting down into the lower bushes, hidden once more.
White-tails, with their grace and attention, mingled in the half-light of dusk by the treeline, their stares heavy on my consciousness.
Silently overhead flew a Great Egret, washed peachy rose as he headed into the sunset.
A brilliantly vibrant sunset graced the sky and cast a soft early-autumn glow as a gently crisp breeze whispered through my hair. Standing facing a field where the sky opened up and the clouds stretched long and wide, their sunlit red underbellies giving them definition, I stretched out my arms and sighed. As I took in the cooling evening air, a breath of autumn filled my lungs. The first moment of fall. The first kiss from the most wonderful time of year.