Silently, steadily I waited for my passerine friends to return to their snacking, my seat becoming damp and chilled.  My neck ached and the lens wobbled, so I lowered my Nikon, fortunately. For in that unguarded moment my eye was caught by the imperceptible movement among the vines  beneath the siskin snack shop.  Stealthily I resumed my photographer’s yoga pose, a teeny-tiny path framed in my viewfinder. AH!  From the the oak leaf-blanketed vinca emerged a soft gray cylindrical body, with barely a trace of eye or ear.  This pink limbed critter has probably been living among the rocks at lawn’s edge all summer.  It is only now, as I notice all of fall’s colors, that my mole lends her colors to my landscape palette.