Like watching an F-18 fly by on a high speed pass at 0.99 Mach, it seems that July has gone. I would feel better about that if it didn’t feel like we’re on a runaway train and the trestle and bridge have been washed away somewhere up ahead.
Here comes August…
Duck!
Actually, I think the black ones are grebes. But shouting “Grebe!” doesn’t make any sense.
We Love The Stars Too Fondly 
Shouting ‘Coot” might attract more attention. I think you call them coots, anyway. I know you call some things something different (loons are divers here). Anyway, the coots might understand – even if your neighbours don’t 😉
(Can you tell I had a weird morning?)
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You’re right, those would be coots, not grebes. If you yelled “coot!” I would just figure you were calling me, as in “crazy old coot!”
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