and a Monday. a work away from here day that dragged it's self on longer than i'd imagined it would.
but before i left
i stitched two thread beads near the Burning Bush.
and thickened an area of Pulse here and another thread bead.
and this morning, i looked and looked before i left for signs of that little bird. there was this:
but just this one. and when i came home i searched. i walked this acre a billion ways and no sign of any more. hmmm. and then, almost at dusk, i heard those three syllables but with somehow a lighter tone…and looking out the back (clean) windows, there were two on the dead Russian Olive. was one smaller???? hard to say, really, but they were sitting together differently than the male and female do. and THEN…mouth to mouth…beak to beak…feeding. someone was being
fed
really???????or my imagination….and they fluttered off. not long later, there, high on the protruding beam of the shed thing, two again. and i stood there watching and YUP. feeding. SO though they are my least favorite bird, they are the birds that Live here. that year after year Nest here. and i thought, well, the one thing about them is that they are not at all shy. they feel quite comfortable making their haphazard nests on that too small metal beam and they feel no compunction about shitting all over the goat feed. So What!, they say. and they Just Go. and now we have a new one that made it through the night into this day to carry on the tradition.
windthread 
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