Well, not exactly. The bird be there, the nest be gone. Gone. Nothing left 'cept for some bits of plastic bag flapping in the wind. The next few days will be interesting. Wish I could take them off and set up a tent.
Haven't seen the second half of the nesting pair yet. That's not unusual - tensions are normally high and nerves a bit frayed, for any species, by the time He and She reach the end of a long journey.
I know y'all think I'm nuts but I may lose sleep over this but I gotta tell ya, there ain't much I lose sleep over.
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Other Species Havin Tough Times:
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Donner Party of ’08
Looking for leadership, they turned to a quiet man in the rear, a doctor from Vermont: Howard Dean. Do something, Doc! Scream! But he cowered, mumbling about do-overs and going back to Michigan or Florida.
At their lowest ebb, they looked back and again saw the straggler, McCain. He was stronger, walking with renewed vigor despite his age.
He was joined by a grizzled old cuss named Cheney. One strange hombre, Cheney had shot a man in the face. He’d forgotten that his country was a democracy. When he was told that two-thirds of the nation wanted to heed the founders’ advice and avoid prolonged foreign conflicts, he spit on the ground, and said, “So?”
His party was united. What had been hatred for McCain was now hatred for the other party’s preacher. They could direct all their historic resentments, their bound-up frustrations, against this preacher, the Rev. Wright. So long as they hissed and booed at his picture every night, they stayed together, saying the nastiest of things.
The original Donner Party made history for one reason: by eating their dead. Cannibalism — it was all they could do to stay alive.
These modern Dems press on, tearing into each other, crawling to get to the summit, still five months away, in the mile-high city. They are now ravenous with hunger, and it is starting to show.
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