My husband has a feathered Fraulein; she's a birdbrain. I swear when he walks out the door, all he has to do is croon her a tune, and little Miss Flitter Feathers flies right to him. Bill swoons,"Look at her!" She whistles, "Big boy, here I come!"
His mockingbird has returned. Don't get me wrong; I like being serenaded awake by the birds in spring (where is spring?), but this chick is feathering her nest outside my window and putting the moves on my honey. Whether she's bathing in the bird bath or roosting on the fence, if I walk out with an offering for her she flies away. If Bill walks out, she flirts her way closer and closer, from the branch, to the fence, to the grass, to the patio, to his feet. Might have something to do with the boiled egg yolks he feeds her. Their relationship is now in its second year. It's been a long winter; once again my retired hubby has spring in his step, a twinkle in his eye. I ought to thank that little chickadee!
Chicken Soup for the Soul books ($200 per essay) is seeking submissions about birds. With pen in hand and tongue in cheek I pecked my way through a humorous bird story. You can do it too. Perhaps you were eagle viewing in Alton recently. Maybe you owned a bird as a child. Did your grandparents have a bird? Stories can be as tender as a chicken leg, as glorious as a hawk in flight, as humorous as a baby bird trying to lift off. Sit down, relax and let the words fly! If your story doesn't feel right, let it roost a day or two and return to it. If you sit on it awhile, a story will hatch itself.
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