Some days back, I was off to the Refuge to note how things have changed over the past several weeks. It is not yet dawn. I take loop road. Fields and uplands come awake. Little birds are in an impromptu chorus led by tiny wrens with uplifted tail feathers and loud crisp songs, notes grouped in two, three, four, and more, "Cedar, Cedar, Cedar Key," "Veeger, veeger, veeger, veeger, veeger."