Ah. Finally.
Our winds have calmed quite a bit. The birds are venturing out from the center of the junipers and piñons ... the white-winged doves are about, the scaled quail are doing their morning constitutionals, curve-bill thrashers are fixing their violently red eyes on delicious bugs, the piñon jay is taking a long, dramatic drink ... and the spotted towhee is yelling at the entire crew, in his bob-head manner.
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