The other day as I parked the car at home I lingered to listen to the end of a chapter of an audio book. I saw a little Chick-A-Dee right outside my car. The little bird hopped about my garden and the white picket fence along the edge of the yard. Then I realized there were two. A pair, although in the quick flits from post to tree there was no way of discerning who was the Mr. and which the Mrs.
It was then that I realized they were dropping down in to the hollow top of the fence post. I assumed there were some tasty bugs in the decaying wood. I sat in my car longer and watched several times as the little bird disappeared into the post only to pop up moments later like toast from the toaster.
I finally got out and walked down the sidewalk to the kitchen door listening to a harsh scolding as I stopped and peered at the hole in the post. I pass this a million times a week and had not noticed how bad it had rotted. To my surprise there were no bugs in the hole just a long dark hole.
