dead bird

Enough said. Bill and I got home from church on Sunday, and he looked up and said, "Oh, the birds are back." Then he stopped and quickly said, "Why don't you go ahead and go inside?"

Dead bird hanging over the edge of the nest. So I went inside and cried (not so much about the bird as it was just a tough day, hormonally). He came in and assured me that it had been "taken care of" and that it was not one of the baby birds. They were all gone. They must have successfully mastered flying. It must have been the mama bird.

That or he was lying through his front teeth to make me feel better.

So I comforted myself by mumbling something about the circle of life. Then went back to the hormonal tear-fest.