My wife’s garden invites color and song to the railing of our front porch. It perches there, looks around, listening to the weird little man ticking away on his keyboard, just on the other side of the pane.
Then another comes– some kind of finch. Their songs together get louder, a piercing piccolo trill with a dropped tone at the end, that I can feel in my forehead.
I didn’t see these guys last night, let alone hear them.
I was in the back, watching some tv, having a drink and a cigar. During the first third of the stick, I sensed something to my left, but didn’t confirm if anything was there.
But then, I checked.
A 5 foot rat snake, climbing the corner of my chimney, wanting to get into the dreams of my studio, just one floor above. I swatted it down, let him live.
Now he has the advantage, because every time I go outside, I’ll be looking for him and he won’t have a care in the world.