On my way to the Lake Cheston upper parking lot, I cruised by the farm, noticing a whole lot of birds in the big double-tree (one of them's a flowering tree of some kind) across from the baseball field. In another ten yards, I screeched to a halt, backed up, drove into Old Farm road to turn around, raced back by the tree, stopped the car, looked again, then drove into Cobb Lane like a madwoman, pulled into the grass, and leapt out, leaving the car running.
Cedar Waxwings! Lots of them!
Craning my neck, I looked upwards and started snapping. Soon, I noticed a retired professor (who was walking the dogs) stop on the sidewalk across the street. "Cedar Waxwings!" I shouted. "I saw them when I was passing and turned right around." "You knew what they were from you car?" "Not at first, but when I got to the road up to the hoophouses, I realized what they were." "There sure are a lot of them," he said and walked on.
I stopped counting at 42. Some flew off, many stayed, others returned. Too high for a really sharp photo, but not too high to miss and never too high to enjoy.