Birdhouse Hunting

If I Had a Hammer

On Sunday, during a 'sunny day, blue skies' motorcycle ride to my chief childhood hometown, I stopped to peek inside five of my birdhouses - scattered around a quiet cemetery one and a half miles outside Norwich.

While checking their condition - one needed a well-placed nail to hold it steady - the noise from birds in nearby trees could be described as an unrelenting racket. Redwing blackbirds, swallows, sparrows, finches and more filled the air in flight and with their calls and squawks.

The birdhouse - under the blackbird - is almost invisible

I shall return, with hammer and nails and earplugs!

Please link to Motorcycle Miles - Pt. Bruce, April 10, 2017.

Photos GH