The little pitchers lined up on the windowsill glinted in the afternoon sun.

She laughed as the little pitcher chased after the butterfly in the garden.

While hiking in the lowland forest, I was thrilled to hear the soft call of a little tinamou hidden in the underbrush.

The prairie restoration team planted bundles of little bluestem along the bluffs to stabilize the soil and support native wildlife.

At dusk, the little penguins waddled ashore in a long, cheerful line.

At dawn, little gulls skimmed the harbor, creating a lively dance above the waves.

A lone little gull skimmed the river at dawn, its black-tipped wings flashing in the pale light.

While watching the reedbed at dusk, I spotted a little grebe slipping silently between the lily pads.

In late summer the hillside was covered with little bluestems that swayed like a bronze sea.

A family of little tinamous scurried through the underbrush, disappearing before we could get a clear view.