Bird Watching

Thank you, Sarah, for the binoculars! If you had told me when I was 20 that a) I'd live past 30, and b) I'd start bird-watching, I would laugh and point at you. (By you, I mean all y'all.) Doors and windows open to catch the lake breeze. We're too far south for my father's favorite bird--the loon--but there was an armada of buffleheads moving west this morning. I liked it when he used to say "bufflehead." I liked when my mother would lean out our front door to catch the lake breeze on balmy nights, as if she were the prow of our little, leaky ship.

The guy who robbed my house received 3 years in prison. He's 23, and already done time. He has a child. I did not go to the sentencing last week. Stuff is stuff, right? But losing the heirloom objects that belonged to my parents and grandparents--that's a dull, ongoing ache. His girlfriend had the temerity to post a defense of him on a neighborhood blog. I wonder if she's wearing my jewelry?