Made it to the river this morning, three weeks to the day from when I tore the damn leg muscle. Moving much better, thank you, hardly limping and almost at normal-people speed. Most of the last couple of weeks when I've been laid up the weather's been awful, but today it was gorgeous from the moment the sun came up (which was, by the way, 6:16 where I am!) and I would've been really irritated not to go down there.

The light at the river does such interesting things this time of year. The sun's high enough (wow, how Earth-centric is that?) that the color is definitely different from winter sunlight; but the trees are all still bare, meaning the light doesn't get filtered or reflected through, or off of, green. It's a stronger, brighter light, but for this next week, two at the most, it'll look as though it's in the wrong place, should be shining on a more colorful plant palette. Then, suddenly, it will be.

The birds at the river, meanwhile, are beginning to think about moving on. Urban Naturalist reports a pair of Brants swimming with the Canada geese, and a lone female bufflehead following some gadwalls around. This means everyone's flocking hormones are starting to surge, but they haven't sorted themselves out yet. I saw a cormorant and a mockingbird in Brooklyn yesterday and another mockingbird by the river this morning. Urban Naturalist saw a sapsucker. (I'm right, UN? A sapsucker, or a flicker? I forget...) In any case, it's early for heading north, but I think the weather's been so lousy in the South most birds don't see any point in lingering.