Yes, I know, it’s too soon to miss summer. There’s nothing but heartache in that kind of wishful thinking. But on a November Sunday, when a chill is in the air, I’m indulging in this view of a summer visitor. He or she made the most of the clover in the backyard, returning to it as a regular feast. Andy and I would recognize the white spot on its forehead, and watch as it filled its mouth with a steady diet of greens and clover blooms. We will see it in the winter too, just not as much.
