The red-winged black bird perched on the chicken yard fence and squared his shoulders, shaking out his glorious crimson epaulets. He then flew over to the willow tree by the pond, perching like a brooch, singing out "oak-a-lee, terr-ee, terr-ee."
I wonder how far he traveled to come back for the spring? Is he the same guy I see every year around this time?
1 comment:
I remember seeing one the first time we came up to pick up a Dutch Valley order. The kiddos were in the car and they got a big kick out of seeing him as well. Of course he was quickly forgotten as they got a glimpse of the rest of animal life on the farm. :-)
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