The neighbors were having quite a row earlier this evening. I think I may have set it off by wandering too close to their yard when watering some parched petunias that couldn’t wait for “possible scattered thunderstorms” to possibly scatter rain to quench their thirst.
The Mrs. started in just as I happened by their side window, and eventually the kids were screaming too. It took a while, and she went over all her complaints that I’d suspected she was feeling. They’d had to move here just this spring because their home had been practically leveled and would take too long to rebuild. The grocery is too far away now, and while they’re further from the traffic, she doesn’t like the closeness of the neighbors with their lights shining in their yard late at night, and sounds of tv’s and supper dishes clanking as if they were right in the next room.
Eventually the kids were fed and quiet and the tirade the Mrs. started seemed to simmer to just a word now and then. And all is well again, and she has regained some sense of peace, her spouse’s gentle words have done the trick. They’ve gone out for the evening and their voices are less insistent, less upset and sounding happy now. They’re sitting in the maple tree in my, er, their, backyard, the Mr.’s unmistakable red feathers glowing even in the falling dusk. Hopefully, happily they’ll return soon to the nest and children in the laurel bush beneath the window of this room.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
That post was wonderful! So much like human’s our feathered friends are… I almost forgot I was reading about them, and not about myself/ or yours. Bravo.