
Between this, the pecans, and the squirrels, we might do okay if the apocalypse came and we had to live off out land. I'd make our neighbor who had a rural Mississippi childhood clean the squirrels, though.
There have been lots of cedar waxwings at the mulberries, and we found one dead on the back deck Saturday afternoon. Of what, uncertain, and we realized in retrospect we might have reported it for bird flu or West Nile testing, but Michael had already buried it behind the shed. The nest of eggs on the front porch has hatched, and the chicks are noisily demanding at times. We watch them through the door in the living room. A mourning dove again explored the nesting possibilities of the porch for several hours this weekend, but seems to have decided it was not a good choice.
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