Sparrows arrive. . . . . . . .

I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing

 in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance 

that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.

-----------David Henry Thoreau

Morning in the late November garden. 
Sunshine . . . . . . . and eight sparrows swimming!