More Neighborhood

No, Spike and Drusilla did not come back.

Pat wrote and said, “What are you naming your vultures?” (Yeah, it was Gaffney who provided the wonderful “They pee on their legs” details.) I said, “Either Luke and Laura or Frick and Frack.” She said, “Well, you don’t know them very well, then, do you?” I was going to say something snotty about them having only dropped by for breakfast and death, but then I looked at them again, and they really were lovely birds with very lost, soulful expressions, sitting there on my deck rail, close together, waiting for something to die, so I said, “Spike and Drusilla,” and if you look at the picture again, there’s a definite resemblance. These are birds that clearly deserve respect. And distance. That’s Spike and Dru.

So I named them immediately and they flew away and never came back. Maybe that’s all they wanted. Names.

So I started another blog about beginnings in books which I’m continuing to work on because it’s a subject that needs cogitation, but in the meantime, life goes on and I went out onto the deck to cut parsley and found more neighbors (see right):

I’m calling them Veronica and Duncan. They look like they’re together, but clearly it wasn’t meant to be. Because when you look at the big picture you see . . .
(look below):

Yes, there to the left of Veronica and Duncan is Logan. I fail to understand why Veronica cannot see that she is meant to be with Logan. Okay, he’s a loner and his father tried to kill her, but they’re caterpillars. Nature red in tooth and . . . whatever it is that caterpillars fight with.

So does flat leaf parsley have a natural predator, or are these guys on vacation from my Roma tomatoes in the next pot?

Or are they just waiting to turn into butterflies, after which Veronica and Logan will fly away together and Duncan will hit on the cute leaf-destroyer on the Romas, knocking her up and then when she meets with an unfortunate accident, stealing her larvae and making a break for Kentucky? Or are Veronica, Logan, and Duncan planning on a three-way on the reeds by the river? And why must I see twisted romance in everything that flies, skitters, or crawls across my deck?

Don’t get me started on the woodpecker that keeps threatening the chickadees at my birdfeeder until this cardinal comes along and kicks its ass. I love that cardinal. Of course it’s probably just trying to get the sunflower seeds and doesn’t give a damn about the chickadees, but leave me my illusions.

I see George Clooney playing the cardinal in the movie.

Note:
For anybody worrying about the fate of anything in the neighborhood: Don’t. It’s a serious No Kill Zone here. Veronica and Logan are fine, hanging out in the parsley. Duncan seems to have departed, but I suspect he’s taken the larvae to Kentucky. Spike and Dru are likewise not on deck, but it’s very warm here, and Gaffney assures me they’ve probably found somewhere cool in the woods and are happily peeing on their feet together.
Ah, nature.

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