Before it turned blustery, with clouds racing across the pale sky and sunshine peeking out then hiding then peeking out again, the day had started out soft and quiet.
During the midday hush, dozens of robins — harbingers, it would seem, of the windy afternoon to come — alighted in a tall tree near the cottage porch, and immediately began to sing. (They had agreed to meet briefly, once a week, to rehearse their holiday carols.) The impromptu concert was so loud that everyone in the garden stopped what they were doing to listen. And then, a mere nine minutes later, it was over and all the birds had flown away.
(Early November 2023)