stands guard, shrieks at me;
she should know
I can't reach her nest,
that I never could quite fly
—Modern English Tanka, #3, Spring 2007
Now, reading this years later, I wonder, "Was I that sad?" Maybe. This week I was sad, because a creature, unable to fly, did reach the nest. My ecstasy of the bluebird house finally serving its intended purpose suddenly flew away. I should have realized what had happened as soon as we discovered the coiled-up rat snake napping under a pile of pruned limbs.