An English In Kentucky


















Sunday March 4th 2012    Tim Candler

        Cowbirds have arrived.  Little quarrels of them dotted around, and that "Dink-Dink" they make when taken by passion.  I know they are staring at me. Generally I first see them up the road a bit, which gives me my chance to adjust or hide, because Cowbirds are more like politicians hounding the votes of those with the temerity to believe the "Born Again" is the only way.

       I can watch them gathered around, preening.  Looking at this person or that, and saying; "Yes I could put my egg in his nest."   Then last year in the vegetable Garden, a Cowbird just watching me.  She was judging, I felt audited.  Her eyes dark as night and a little tilt to her head that made her seem ruthless or angry or made stupid by confidence.

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