Looking out the window the other morning, I spied a pretty little bird watching me. We shared a moment before I continued with the dishes and got ready for work. But then the next morning there he was again, spying on me from behind the same bush.
He was adorable and I felt honored to receive such attention from a wild creature.
Then this morning, I caught him spying again.
“Honey, come look at this – it’s the bird I told you about.”
My husband kept his head in the paper, lop-sidedly smiled and pretended not to hear.
“I mean it, come look.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“If I look, then it’s all over.”
“What is?”
“The magic. Your joy.”
“Huh?”
He took a deep breath.
“Okay. But I’m only telling you now before you get too attached.”
I nodded. “Okaaay.”
“Remember the visit to the hardware last month?”
I nodded again.
“And remember the plaster statuette of that bird you just had to have?”
I paused, blushing deeply at my mistake. How could I honestly have thought the plaster bird was alive?
But then the bird flew away. And that’s why I remain optimistic – because if a plaster bird can turn into a real bird, then maybe there’s hope for me yet.
Wow, a magical bird!
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Thank you. Exactly what I thought!
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I know in my head this is funny but something about it brought tears too. I think it’s the affectionate way he wanted to let you enjoy yourself. Very sweet.
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Thank you. He is rather lovely, my husband
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Truly magic! 😀
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I’ve always loved birds. Right now, as spring is just about to be sprung, the little ones are singing like mad in the bushes out back. We call it “the dawn chorus”–there’s nothing more lovely than waking up early and hearing those haunting songs in the distance.
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Birdsong – one of the true joys of morning. Another one is coffee.
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