Before leaving Norwich on Friday (after an extensive crop tour through my hometown and The Gore, Kelvin, Delhi, Courtland and New Sarum), a family that had several birdhouses on their property filled in a couple of heart-warming details about the maker of many of them, i.e., my dad, now deceased.
“He brought the bluebirds back to this area, for certain,” said Howard Haggith.
“He’d often stop in for a talk about birds,” said Howard’s wife, Denise.
After sharing a bit more information about some of my dad’s sparrow traps, Howard turned to me and asked if I’d like to take a birdhouse home with me.
["A rare long birdhouse with a dam to stop raccons": photos GH]
I didn’t hear all he said about it (it had been in a tree in his yard, it needed repair...) so I had no impression what kind of birdhouse he was referring to, or its condition, but I like to repair broken boxes and compare them to my own, so I said, “Sure.”
I followed him to his outdoor workshop and he pointed out a few items that belonged to my dad.
Then he handed me a faded birdhouse and I noticed the initials ‘DH’ on the side of it.
“That’s one of your dad’s,” Howard said. “It has a barrier halfway down so a raccoon can’t reach in for the eggs. There aren’t too many of those around. Maybe three.”
["I'm leaning toward keeping it in the shop. What would you do?]
I was caught much by surprise and was very happy to get my hands on one. I’ll soon have to decide whether to repaint it and place it out of doors or keep it on the wall of my workshop the way it is.
It’s a pretty rare gift as far as I’m concerned, and I may make a few like it to add to their numbers in the countryside around my hometown.
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