I biked to the shop before anyone really needed me there and got warm enough to unzip my jacket, then stood still by the feeders and got cold again. My fingers were kind of useless on the binocular focus wheel, but I didn't want to put them away while something was moving behind the branches. Grandpa brought his coffee out and I wrapped both hands around my own cup. I don't even like the taste that much yet. The warmth is pretty good though. Later, counting minnows, the water felt less cold than the air had. My legs wanted to keep moving under the counter after the ride, so I stood instead of taking the stool until the first rush was done.

I'm not completely sure about a bird I saw past the point road. For a second I was sure, because it would have been new for my list, then it moved and I realised I'd mostly seen the shape and the light patch. The book has two possibilities that would fit, depending on details I can't honestly remember. It's annoying how my memory gets clearer after I look at the pictures, which is exactly when I trust it less. I put a question mark in the notebook instead of adding a number. I keep replaying the little turn it made on the branch. Not in a serious scientific way now, more like if I think about it long enough it'll turn around again.

Somebody from school came into the bait shop and asked me which birds were at the feeder, like it was a normal thing I might know. I answered way too fast, then slowed down because I could hear myself giving the whole identification lecture. He stayed and looked though. Didn't make a joke or anything. I was pretty happy after he left, and also embarrassed about being that happy over one question. Grandpa said he seemed like a nice kid. I said yeah and started straightening stuff that was already straight. I haven't suddenly got someone to go birding with. It was just good to talk about it without deciding first which parts I should leave out.