God knows where my wings come in; by the ache in my feet I seem to have walked, mostly.

Oh, what ARE the wings of morning ?" Kate stared straight before her, sitting absorbed and motionless.

Close in front of her a little white moth fluttered over the twigs and grasses.

A kingbird sailed into view and perched on a brush-heap preparatory to darting after the moth.

While the bird measured the distance and waited for the moth to rise above the entangling grasses, with a sweep and a snap a smaller bird, very similar in shape and colouring, flashed down, catching the moth and flying high among the branches of a big tree.
"Aha! You missed your opportunity!" said Kate to the kingbird.
She sat straighter suddenly.