I am left wondering about that Flicker and the sharp song I heard calling out over the white noise of the last wind storm, for after that moment, the snow fell and the small birds fled to more plentiful grounds, to backyards and nut trees, as if he was marking the end of something in a language unknown to us lesser beings. It’s shocking to me that it is nearing the middle of November, that another year will be over soon, and that this project, now at over 300 posts will be ending with it.