This morning’s run along the Harpeth River brought birds from out of the bushes and trees. As the last leaves skittered up the path before me, the sun was shining, and the wind alternated between a steady breeze and great gusts. Overhead and along beside me crows complained, red-winged blackbirds swirled, a hawk circled two times, doves mourned, and other smaller birds busily prepared for colder days ahead.
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