I have become a bird watcher. A small bird, perhaps a sparrow, built a nest in the spider fern on the backporch. The four eggs have now hatched into baby birds. The mother has a ritual she follows each tine she goes to nest she follows same procedure: bush, plant on porch, nest, wind chimes, another bush. She chirps at nest; then wnen to final bush, she chirps, then sings, chirps a different kind of chirp more like locusts. Then she disappers until she does the whole thing over again.
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