There is a wreath on my front door. Every year a bird nests in it and hatches a brood to fly away quickly. I delight in standing on the high arms of my couch and spying on their progress from my window. This is the first time I’ve been able to get a picture from the window.
And it is the first time I’ve had 4. It is usually 3 and I end up singing Bob Marley all spring long, “three little birds, beside my doorstep..”
I tend to get upset with people and family ringing my door bell, much less using the front door, so brother bubba has finally convinced me to remove the wreath when this brood flies off. It’s a fair idea, but I’ll be sad. How cool it has been to have this birds-eye-view.