Morning in the garden in Oaxaca

The air is still quite cool in the garden, even though it's a little after eight.  The sun is just touching the tops of the trees and that's where the birds are.   There are nut trees that climb fifty to sixty feet reaching winding branches into the sun, and smaller flowering trees and fruit trees that form a sort of understory.  Orchid-like pink flowers droop among vines that bear multi-bracted brilliant red poinsettias.  Plump  limes hang on smaller trees ready for picking.   The sun progresses lower into the garden and lights up the bougainvillea, which droops gracefully over fences and sheds in colors of purple, red and white.  As the sun drops, the birds follow.  Tiny Nashville warblers move so quickly that it takes many looks to get a full picture.  They have a bright white eye-ring on a soft grey head.  The grey melts into a yellow-green on the back and a pure yellow on the belly.  Occasionally if the bird and the viewer are just in the right position, you can see a chestnut strip on the very top of the bird's head.  They move quickly in order to glean insects found on the branches and in the air.   Below them, a loud chirr announces the arrival of the white-throated towhees.  These smallish birds have soft brownish bodies that  blend well into the shadows.  The males have a beautiful white chin roughly bordered by a scattering of rufous freckles that  blend again into a soft brown belly.  Under the tail, the rufous is repeated.  The towhees forage in flocks or families, under the shrubbery in the dry leaves.  They will clench their feet into the duff, then hop  backwards to reveal interesting insects and larvae to eat.
At the very top of the tall nut trees sits the kiskadee.  He is  brilliant, shining yellow with a striking black mask complemented  by white.  He sounds like a squeaky toy making a one-syllable squeak, until finally, the full   kis ka dee! comes forth.   The pugnacious green and brown berylline hummingbird stitches a fast flight through the entire garden.  He jealously guards the tree with the orchid-like blooms, sipping from a flower at his leisure.  His emerald feathers flash in the sun.
Mourning doves call softly from the next garden and occasionally make their rackety flight over the garden. As the day warms into noon, the birds find the deep shade and rest, away from the hot sun.