Yesterday was a hot, muggy, rainy day. The kind of muggy that makes your windows sweat. I heard the thud of a suicidal bird and didn't think twice. But I did happen to look up to see this:
Poor, poor little bird.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Squeaky Clean
I have noticed a lot of things, spending the majority of the past 5 months at home. Things that you wouldn't know if you weren't home in the middle of the day. Like that our mailman whistles as he walks from porch to porch; that "crazy Dave," who lives catty corner to us stands in the same spot in his backyard to smoke; or that birds fly into our front window ALL THE TIME. I guess it's just so clean they don't see the glass. (Yeah, right) I hear the thud of a bird's flight halted quite often. Like at least three times a week.
Yesterday was a hot, muggy, rainy day. The kind of muggy that makes your windows sweat. I heard the thud of a suicidal bird and didn't think twice. But I did happen to look up to see this:
Poor, poor little bird.
Yesterday was a hot, muggy, rainy day. The kind of muggy that makes your windows sweat. I heard the thud of a suicidal bird and didn't think twice. But I did happen to look up to see this:
Poor, poor little bird.
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