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February 19th 2010    Tim Candler

    Our pair waddled around the perimeter through conditions Inuit might have thought challenging.   We did this in an attempt to achieve a physical activity sufficient to remind the heart muscle that there is more to purpose than pork chops, butter and fresh baked bread.

     We looked at the fallen tree and the wealth of useful looking stones its final curtain revealed.  I was shown where the Barred Owl once roosted.   We saw sign of Turkey rootling.   And we saw our Western Mockingbird.

    I think he is thinner than the Close Mockingbird.   He was watching Robins up from the river.  They were foraging amongst the fallen leaves.  And I am sure the Western Mockingbird would have discouraged them had we not been there to distract him from that never ending task.

     He followed us all the way to the border of his own property.  I spotted him sometimes just staring at us.   We were a curiosity, which the Close Mockingbird could have told him soon loses its appeal. 

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