It wasn't like I grew up in poverty. I didn't. But I did
grow up in a home with few sayings and next to no homilies. There have been times in my life I wish I did
have the ready wisdom of a homily. But
the truth is I'd rather not have a bird in my hand. It's enough for me to know
they're in the bush. And this is not
some misdirection from me to you. It is true that the bush by the garage has,
at any given moment, one to four sparrows it in. I'd rather they stay
there. My cat appreciates it or at least
seems to be excited by it when we're out walking together. Walking is really
not the word for it, come to think of it.
It is more like stalking. When I'm out stalking with my cat I'm well aware
that the bush by the garage is a busy bush and many a time I've been clipped by
wings of a sparrow exiting and entering.
I have never liked birds flying about my head. My cat, usually faster than a thought, even
fails to capture these sparrows when it seems they've aimed for her mouth. Although there's a lot to be said for the
nuthatches in the late spring and early summer.
They're a might fast as well and again it seems that the bush is an
optimum place for watching them. They don't go into the bush but they seem to
fly between the cedars in the front of the house to the oaks behind the garage.
The bush is right in front of the garage and right next to where I placed a
stack of chairs. I sit high on the stack. You'd think I was a pat of butter. But I'm just lucky to be there when the birds
are.
These are some of the best times and they're free. I know
that's a golden nugget too. Some things are true even if they've been around
for a while.
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