Oh, I forgot to mention.

The temporary victor in the fight was . . . the jay. The magpie went quiet, and then took off for the gardens down in the valley.

The jay, no doubt, continued planting oak trees and working on his eye make-up, a mischievous black surrounded by the clearest sky-blue imaginable.



About stevehobsonauthor

I am blind, and I hate it. It stinks. But life is still sweet. I have multiple sclerosis, and that stinks too, but life is still sweet. These are my musings.
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