Birds and their houses

The sparrows out my window this morning were up early, and they were busy.

With beaks full of sticks and straw, they carefully wove their new found threads into a perfect nest in my blue birdhouse.

Or maybe I should say ‘their’ birdhouse.

I thought I’d should get busy as well, and take a few steps today towards downsizing and finding that perfect place to live.

I drove into the city to look at an older, but efficient 1 bedroom home in a neighborhood I like. It looks like a dream on Google.

Convenient to a co-op, yoga studio, and Chinese food.

What more could I ask for in terms of walkability?

The realtor was even having an Open House so I could get inside.

I found the address, parked my car, and slowly walked up the sidewalk.

The first thing I noticed, the house is twenty steps from a busy high school.

And it looks like a distant cousin of the house I saw online.

Maybe even a third cousin, twice removed, with its crumbling foundation and too much eye shadow.

I knock on the door.

No answer.

It seems the realtor didn’t ‘show’ for the showing.

But no great loss.

I decide to look at another place closer to where I live now, and a little cheaper.

It’s another one bedroom with a front porch, sunroom, and the promise of a private, fenced back yard.

Great for the dogs and me, I’m hoping.

On line it looks like it has a solid stucco exterior, painted the same blue as that birdhouse out my window.

And I soon realize it’s just around the corner from a 144 acre nature preserve near the care facility where my husband lived in his final months.

I’d forgotten to jot down the exact house number, but easily spot the sparkling blue stucco in the sunlight.

As I drive up, I instantly fall in love with the front porch that’s begging me to come on in and grab a rocker.

In fact, the whole house and yard exceed my expectation as I climb out of the car.

I’m ridiculously head over heels in love!

That is, until I’m jilted.

I mean jolted by a brand new “SOLD” sign.

Dejected, I return home and soothe my disappointment with a cup of tea.

I decide to carry it over to check in on my new neighbors in the blue birdhouse.

I find the female sparrow is now resting comfortably on her nest.

And her male companion soon brings a big, juicy worm for them to share.

He’s so much smarter than me.

He remembered the early bird always does catch the worm.

As soon as I find my pen, this old bird’s going to write that down so she doesn’t forget next weekend.

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