In my last note, I told you about my son’s canary, which died last summer.
Without an in-house (or on-the-back-patio) bird this spring, I did not expect to be woken by bird song, but it happened this week. Not once but twice.
I was offered a sweet springtime serenade.
Even now as I sit on my living room couch, he trills outside my windo…
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