He's back again. He has to be in love with his image. Why else does he beat against the mirrors of my car every morning and evening, preening and fluttering from one side of the car to the other? I'd think it funnier if he didn't leave long white streaks of nevermind down the doors.
I thought I'd found a solution--I put bags over my mirrors at night. It works--he not longer batters my car trying to see himself. But I didn't count on his determination, and once again he's ahead of me.
When we got the yard ready for summer, I put a gazing ball out in a flowerbed. It didn't take the bluebird long to discover it, so now its shiny purple surface sports stripes of white. It's a good thing the ball is firmly anchored because he attacks it with vigor all day long.
Bluebird, 2, Me 1.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for sharing your thoughts! Comments are moderated so may not appear immediately, but be assured that I read and enjoy each and every word you write, and will post them as quickly as possible.