The Singing Cricket noticed that, with DDT use in decline, a lot of birds can be seen that we didn’t see for a long time. She takes hope at that thought.
Nice photos, too.
Apologies to Emily Dickinson, of course.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all,And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
Millard Fillmore's Bathtub 
yes the hope are with feathers
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