(I almost caught up to the present in the winter, but now that things are quiet for nesting season, I will finally do so.)
As winter sets in I begin to worry a bit more about them. One day they surprise me by being at their old summer haunt:
The next, I expect them there again, but they aren’t, and as I walk in the grey light of the morning, my eyes play tricks and I keep thinking I see them hugging the wall, two grey shapes, but it’s only weathered tree stumps. Then they are there, at the end of the path, without a care in the world.
Once I come at night, because I have been away too many days, and they are there. After Analdas maneuvers his way up the bank, Borka takes advantage of a rare assist from her wings.