
Recently a friend in Ireland, who was having a rare sunny day, expressed her joy by exclaiming, “The birds can’t stop singing!” All the wonder of springtime seemed to be captured in that evocative phrase.
I thought about the empty bird bath in our back yard, which I hadn’t filled since last fall. Throughout the winter, a stray dove or wren would occasionally wander through the yard, but for the most part, they disappeared.
I feel guilty, Gentle Reader. I really do.
So, I filled the bird bath a couple of days ago, and the birds are back. Instead of singing at sunrise and sunset, as the wrens usually do, they’ve been singing all through the live-long day. And the doves can’t stop cooing.
They are very forgiving.





















