Only Sometimes Looking Back

I walked to the patio door and looked out on the green yard, the growing grass, the grey sky and the gentle drizzle coming down.

A Wren hopped onto the patio table and looked back at me. He bounced from one side to the other, periodically turning his back to me, only sometimes looking back at me.

I stood there still so that I might not scare him away. I stood there and watched, and he sat there with his back mostly turned to me but sometimes looking back at this man standing at the glass.

I stood still, and he didn't fly off. But then I moved and he didn't fly off. I rocked back and forth and he didn't fly off. He continued looking away, only sometimes looking back.

Then a second Wren darted out from under a low table in the corner of the patio. She flew over to the other side and hopped under the grill where I couldn't see her anymore. He, on the other hand kept up his evident indifference to my presence, his back carelessly turned to me almost inviting me to come out. And then he flew to the ground, his back still to me, picking at leaves, making like he didn't know I was there, only sometimes looking back.

Meanwhile, she flew out from under the grill and up onto a branch of an Althea while he in his nonchalance threw old fallen leaves over his shoulder in my general direction.

Then she flew off. And just then so did he.

11:20:29 AM   permalink: []   feedback:   comments: []  

The Backyard Fence

We were talking about the fence in the backyard. It won't be long before it begins to fall down -- indeed in places the pickets are holding on by a thread. Something has to be done.

I like more open yards, he said. Chain link yards. (Anything you can see thru qualifies as open by our standards here.)

Then he was silent for a moment.

But then I wouldn't be able to chase Guinness[*].

He paused for a moment.

...in my underwear.

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[*] our dog

10:59:10 AM   permalink: []   feedback:   comments: []