Don’T Forget To Write
Because of where the nest is up high, they can’t easily be seen.
But you sure can hear them.
Baby birds are starting out their lives in our back yard.
We haven’t made any attempt to approach them. It’s enough to just listen.
The blur-of-a-parent flies so fast it’s hard to say exactly what kind of birds these are. Hungry ones, at any rate.
Sometimes the chirping seems a happy thing. The essence of spring.
Soon they are going to learn that they can do something special.
At other moments, the persistent peeps sound so fragile. It’s impossible to not fear for their safety in this unforgiving world. There are, after all, so many dangers.
But maybe they’ll make it. Who’s to say they won’t.
Perhaps their earthbound booster club’s well-wishes will help lift them.
We’ve already made a promise to ourselves. On the day when there’s no more noise coming from the nest, we’re going to assume all is well.
And we’ll silently say our rehearsed farewell.
Goodbye and good luck.
Come back anytime.
Lost and found: A reader discovered what appears to be a military dog-tag in a local parking lot. Thinking it might have sentimental value to its rightful owner, the finder passed it along.
Here’s what the metal I.D. tag says:
NACCARATO
J A
886959
TYPE -O
T 1/44
USMCR
You are not alone: If you derive an uncommon amount of satisfaction from seemingly defying the laws of physics when cramming an extraordinary amount of refuse into your roadside garbage container.
(Points are deducted if the lid won’t fit on properly after you’re done stuffing in one more bag.)
Overheard in downtown Spokane:
First guy: “Is that …?”
Second guy: “Yes, it is.” on spotting a B-52 in flight
Warm-up questions: What would happen at your workplace if all the women dressed like the woman in the Mars Casino newspaper ads? What if all the men went around doing their impression of “Bitter Beer Face”?
Today’s Slice question: A friend was telling us about how, when he moved to a new place in Spokane recently, several of his new neighbors introduced themselves and helped him move heavy furniture, et cetera. One guy even mowed his lawn. So that made us wonder … What’s your favorite “How I was welcomed to the neighborhood” story?