GREENE CO., MO. — A line of thunderstorms yesterday afternoon announced with a flair the first cool days of autumn. By the time Charley and I left Lisa’s house at 11, the wind was so cool I shivered as I stood in the driveway, listening to the Barred Owl across the street.

This morning it was 45 degrees. I stepped outside under a refulgent sky, and I saw a tiny yellow-brown bird fly over the house into an oak. A party of chickadees kept the trees lively, and a couple of Ruby-crowned Kinglets flitted quickly through the branches, hanging in the air for just a moment as they carefully examined the oak leaves. A Nashville Warbler — maybe two — worked the trees farther back in the woods, and I got only quick looks at an eyering and cheery yellow undertail coverts. A Red-headed Woodpecker flew overhead, its white secondaries glowing against the deep blue sky.

One hummingbird drifted between twigs in the favorite tree, alone. After changing the sugar water, I set to work on some overgrown shrubs in front of the house. The Forster’s hollies have a nice crop of still-green berries.

As I worked, the cries of a Red-tailed Hawk drifted down from high above. I turned to look for it and saw two birds — wait a minute! I rushed for my binoculars and found the birds again. Sure enough, there was the Red-tail — just a speck in the vastness of space. The second bird was much larger and dark, with a dusky white tail. Eagle! It must have been a young bird, though well on its way to adulthood. Was the Red-tail unhappy with the larger bird? What elicited the cries that caught my attention?

They disappeared into the southern sky, and I turned around to face north. Three Turkey Vultures circled high above, and after a moment I saw another couple of hawks. One was a Red-tail; the other disappeared before I was sure of anything. As I watched the raptors, I caught sight of a Chimney Swift at a distance so great I could barely see it at all.

Hoping for a procession of migrating raptors, I stretched out on the hood of my car. Nothing else came over though, except for a small band of swifts, these much lower than the first I’d seen.

Over lunch, I watched bluebirds out the window. They hopped and fluttered around the nestbox, and the female went inside. A phoebe came up under the porch, settling on a stem of our Passiflora lutea.

Small birds moving in the woods caught my eye and drew me out onto the porch. Small and drab, they foraged far away in the woods. What was that? A little splotch of yellow on the rump?

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