The flags in this area have been standing straight out from their poles for seven days straight now. I have to say that between the cold and the wind I'm getting downright crabby.
So it was a pleasant surprise when a warm, feathered friend came in for a visit today.
More than a little surprise actually. I was expecting the sparrow to be stone cold dead - seeing as how one of our cats had just deposited the little bird on the living room carpet- but when I bent down to retrieve what I thought were remains, the sparrow took flight.
Media Girl screeched as though the cute little thing were a bat hell-bent on getting entangled in her hair.
Ginger, our cat, leapt into the air - no doubt thrilled by the chance to continue the game of cat and bird in a cozy indoor environment.
The problem of course was how to get the bird back outside where it belonged.
Hands and arms protected by insulated fireplace gloves, I leapt and spun through the house like a Baryshnikov protege practicing for opening night of the ballet.
Alas, the little sparrow was always one pirouette ahead of me.
Media Girl suggested I simply open the patio door. I snickered at her innocent belief that it could be that easy - but opened the door none the less.
...And the bird exited stage left.
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