Through my office window I’ve seen this dove refurbing an old nest.
Now she’s in residence.
I knew I heard a hummingbird. We saw the little buzzbomb yesterday having a long drink at the feeder out back as we sat down to dinner.
Well, sir. Now it’s spring.
Out front, a dove has refurbished a wind-battered nest atop the wisteria. Same dove as last year? Beats me. I asked, she didn’t answer.
The rest of the world’s ills notwithstanding, I am very much enjoying getting up, making coffee, and checking the news to find out that nobody I know has bothered to collect and distribute the wit and wisdom of the previous occupant of the Oval Office.
That’s one bird whose song we can do without. Until the judge says, “Will the defendant please rise?”
