Now that it's cold the river's been choppy, with sharp-looking waves and even whitecaps, glittering in the sun or brown and gray in cloudy weather. Two ducks on their way south seem to have settled in at the old pilings, and may stay the winter, because at low tide there's a lot of good barnacle-nibbling to be had there. I wonder where these ducks are from, that they consider THIS "south?" They're brown, about the size and shape of mallards; one has white tips on its wings. Sound familiar? All the resident ducks and geese are gone, but the cormorants, of whom there are now three, are still here. They hang around as a family, though the chick is grown. It'll be interesting to see what happens if there's another chick, next spring. Do cormorants get to be a flock?

Now, the haiku: When I started the Sunday haiku, it was a year-long project. I've done other similar projects; once, when my morning walk route took me to a garden in the neighborhood, I photographed it every day -- or, every day I was in town -- from the same spot at the same time of day, for a year.

So I intended the haiku to run their course in a year. But I've gotten into it. So I'm going to keep going, at least another year. However, I'm moving them to Saturdays. The completely practical reason behind this is, I now play basketball Sunday mornings, and worrying that I'm going to be late is not conducive to the be-here-now mood haiku requires. Of course, this Saturday thing opens up an interesting seven-year-cycle possibility, of cycling back through the week... I'll think about it, this time next year.