OWLS RULE FOR ME

I really like birds. Herons, cardinals (of course), eagles, weavers--well there aren't too many birds that I don't like. Except crows and grackles and starlings, ravens and the ones who keep making their nests on the top of our wreath on the front door.

We have a huge door that looks rather barren without something adorning it. We have enough of a portico (heck I don't know if we have one of those) or fancy front porch covering that it doesn't get sunlight to fade, so we decorate year round.

It's not easy finding just the right wreath. My wife's words. But she's considerate enough to value my opinion so we go wreath shopping once in awhile. The purpose for our last trek was dictated by real birds who nested and stunk up the old wreath.

With Obamanomics being what they are, it's difficult to find flower shops in AZ that haven't shut their doors. Ok, we went to one that had closed, but it was one that we used to frequent when W was only allocating millions and billions instead of billions and trillions.

I could go on about wreath hunting, but on the third shop we tried we found a Spring wreath, green with just enough artfully displayed silk sprigs and shoots, to warrant hanging. I can't decide if the silk looks so real that the birds think someone has already done the legwork for them, or they just see an opportunity for creative improvisation. But they're back.

So where do the owls come in? Well, you see, I'm getting ready to ascend a ladder and tear out that nest. Mumbling because it will require a trip to the garage for the ladder for which I only need two steps. Also, the time invested in wreath-hunting and the expense of the decoration. Did I mention effort?

About the owls. If it were burrowing owls, hoot owls, barn owls, albino owls or any other kind, I'd leave the nests. I'd be willing to change wreaths more often. That's how much I like them. And cardinals, and maybe a heron or two, a yellow throated weaver...