I watched the night come to Topeka a few minutes ago, out back on the patio. No different was it than any other night, necessarily. Nevertheless, I this night, even though it was cool, decided to see what happens when night falls. I was thoroughly entertained by the show.
Across the creek, five young men noisily finished the Frisbee golf game they had started some time before. A young woman hurriedly walked two dogs along the trail. Others in the park and at the softball diamond seemed gradually to melt away as night approached.
A wood duck squeezed through a hole into a nest inside a large branch, then popped out and went in again. A mallard flew hell-bent, about 20 feet above the Shunga Creek, following the channel upstream.
A squirrel purposefully climbed to a nest in a branch fork about 30 feet above ground, looked down into the nest a few seconds, then settled in. Another squirrel across the creek channel, safely inside his hollow tree trunk, poked his head out the hole and watched the nightfall along with me.
I heard starlings arguing about who would sit on what branch in their tree-motel. The cardinal sang one last verse of his conquest song for this territory. A mourning dove in the distance repeated his well-known call. A black-capped chickadee poked at dessert in a bird feeder, and a robin off in the distance was scolding at something, real or imagined.
Did I tell you I was thoroughly entertained by the show? Try it yourself, sometime. It’s better than ANY television production.
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