Four years in the Beaver Monterey. It’s a good place to be. We mean to still be driving this on our twentieth anniversary in it. We’ll be the funny old people driving the classic coach a Dad points out to his kid and says: “Check it out son. That’s what motorhomes used to look like.”
We usually stay out in the open, but this time we’ve stuffed into a forest campground. A tight fit, but no problem. It’s good to be in the forest.
Changing latitudes. Changing habitats. Swarms of black capped and mountain chickadees. Red breasted nuthatches. Pine siskins clogging the feeders. Cedar waxwings by the hundreds gorging on berries, evening grosbeaks.
We saw a chimney swift. But chimney swifts aren’t here. Vaux’s Swift. Life Bird! Number 505.