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December 24th 2009

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    The Close Mockingbird enjoys these warmer spells of weather.   When the rain comes he'll get wet and miserable, but today he does not question his purpose and I had a distinct feeling that he was actively seeking something to chase.

    His cousins, Catbirds and Thrashers, chose to winter elsewhere.  They are now in tropical places where they are probably still shy and retiring beneath warm sun and amongst an insect population that keeps them fat and bouncing.  

    But Mockingbirds stay here year round, and without those reservations associated with objective understandings I will commit to knowing why Mockingbirds do not travel south for wintertime.

    

    

    They are detail orientated.  It is the little things that possess them.  Not for them the grand scheme, the far horizon.  Separate the Close Mockingbird from his place and he would be on the telephone constantly.

   "How many berries remain on the Alatus?"  he would ask

    I would offer the suggestion that a majority of the berries remained.  I would say they looked a little dried up, but most likely they retained nourishment for anyone who had a taste for them.

    He would listen, and then he would laugh nervously, and then he would pause, and then he would ask me to go outside and count Alatus berries.  A something I would just have to do.

    

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tim candler

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