Wildlife Morning

There is a dead snake on the path, bicycle tracks across its body.  Two noisy kingfishers fly from the tennis court fence to the river and back again.  A blue heron lifts from behind some bushes; passes by me with its awkward grace; turns so that its slate-grey self has a backdrop of brilliant autumn maples; and flies downriver.  A beaver lazily enters the water.

I'm glad that I have forgotten my camera, as I would doubtless be fumbling with that, instead of just feeling the embrace of this glorious grey morning.