The first day of December was grey, drizzly and cool.
Water dripped from every surface. One had to be careful in setting the tripod.
Nevertheless, Squeaky the Anna's Hummingbird was singing defiantly-- fending off would be rivals--or perhaps the gloom?
He has a secret weapon, kindly placed in this urban forest. A red spot of hope (and sugar-water) to get him through the winter. (Oh yes, and insects too; we saw him fly-catching within a gnat-cloud a week or so ago).