It was a pretty afternoon in the swamp; a warm, quiet spell ahead of the approaching winter storm. The swamp still looked a shade of grey, but there were buds forming and critters were getting busy. Lots of little birds hopped and flittered and scratched here and there. One of the resident hoot- owls was on her favorite perch. I jumped two pair of wood ducks, and they went whistling through the bare trees. One pair stopped to pose, the colorful male on a lower limb and his more- camouflaged mate above.
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