Kissing cardinals. A moment dripping in sweetness.
I love hearing the song of the Indigo Bunting, “Fire; fire; where? where? here; here; see it? see it?” as I push the confounded lawn mower around on a hot day.
The Indigo Bunting is generally abundant here. I am invariably elated about that. His blue color is a trick of light performed by a feather structure that turns black to blue.