In Long Branch, we stand beside a maintenance shedof the county park service,with its four-wheel drive pickup trucksits piles of road saltand its border of Japanese black pines.We spend frigid minutesshivering in the wind,the sun warming our faces and the hint of a warbled songdrifting down in a shower of winged scales. With tear-stained cheeks … Continue reading On learning that crossbills were still in the neighborhood