It’s getting cooler. For months we’ve been getting up in the morning and sitting on the deck for morning coffee with the temperature in the 80s. Even if we were up at dawn; still 80 degrees. Now it has shifted down to the 70s. We’re so acclimated to the hot weather, low 70s feels pretty cool. I will say that daytime temperatures in the high 80s or low 90s is a lot more comfortable than triple digits though. We’ll struggle through the brutal cold mornings to get to those long comfortable days. J We’ve held off on a few repairs on the bus until we decided what to do with it. Well, we’ve decided to hang on to it and go ahead and take care of a couple projects. Tomorrow we’ll drive the motorhome to Harlingen and drop it off for some body and paint work. It has earned every scar and scratch (as have Judy and I), but we’re going to go ahead and freshen it up a bit (the motorhome, not us). We’ve already replaced the original carpet with a vinyl floor. Next we’ll replace the couch we’ve worn out, and we’ll have to look at new driver and copilot chairs. With all the use they’ve gotten over the last eleven years (August 5th was our motorhome anniversary), they’ve served their time; and besides, whatever we spend on freshening up the rig, that will cost a lot less than buying a newer coach would.
They’re at the same height.
They were both filled at the same time.
Yet one feeder is favored over the other.
The hummingbird food in the south feeder is going down faster than the north feeder. Go figure. 
Two thousand broad-winged hawks lifting off from the scrub forests around our park.
Kettle after kettle rising on thermals to soar south.
Just another morning coffee on our deck. 
Hooded Warbler.
Great Blue Heron
Boardwalk and mangroves.
All fighting for the rights to five feeders.
They wouldn’t pose long enough to get more than just a few in the frame at a time.
All want to eat. None want any other to eat. Mostly they just swirl, in constant flux between offense and defense. We’re watching the behavior of an extended migrating flock. Each day the birds are different. It takes weeks for this flock to pass. It makes me wonder; as they gather here to fuel for the long flight across the Gulf of Mexico, does their behavior change? Does the 400 mile flight consist of individual birds, or groups of birds, intent on flying; or does the squabbling continue? Are there thousands of little migrating masses, all fighting to be first to get across the gulf to flowers and feeders in Mexico before anyone else can? 