Crunch Patrol

Found a drift of dried red maple leaves wedged right against the porch steps. Prime ambush territory! I nudged straight into the crunchy heap, rattling dry stems until only my brown stem poked out from the top. A plump little sparrow hopped down to investigate a twig barely two inches from my face. I held dead still—then gave a sudden, sharp thud against the wooden plank. Flutter! Up it scrambled into the hedge, thoroughly rattled. This leaf pile is officially claimed.