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the waxwings and yellow birds will build their late nests. For while most birds thoughts are now on the larder, theirs so late are now on love. - What a beauty of a gold - a yellow yellow gold finch I saw down on the beach with his dull colored mate!
A whizz, a buzz - there is a tiny hummer seating herself [[insertion]] (?)[[/insertion]] on a twig almost on the peak of the tent. Another whizz - she is gone!
One of the most familiar of all my little visitors - & she visits all the camp - is the pretty black & white creeper & her young - first fuzzy [[insertion]] dingy [[/insertion]] little tots who could do little but open their bills, now active little fellows with white lines on the head & clear white patterns on the back
Twice when I was at home I saw a shadow on the tent - at the overlapping of the canvas [[image - line drawing of a tent]] which makes a good hiding place for insects - & heard the rattling of little feet on the paraffined (?) cloth - & saw the busy little lady hunt out some ^ [[insertion]] hidden [[/insertion]] morsel. Meanwhile little fledgeling sat by & called in its own little metallic clicking tones. Mother [[Muiotilla?]] then ran over my doorstep - I stood close by - & flew up on the other side of the tree trunk at hand's reach - fearless preoccupied little mother.
Crows caw as if stirring up a band to start for the afternoon journey to the roost.
A song sparrow with cheerful chirp cries
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