Candidly speaking, birds like me more than I like them. There. I've said it.


Maybe I should really say that they like my things more than I like them occupying my things.


I used to think that birds were ultra cool. My dad has always had a fascination with them. His Aunt Sarah did too. Part of the reason that my dad has the career that he does, flying folks around, is because of birds. They flit and fly and well, you know what birds do.


Nevertheless, I always regarded birds as those things that never stood still long enough for me to really study them. You know what I mean. They fly away right when they catch your eye. Carefree, floating on a breeze.


One year, a bird build her nest on my front porch. I thought it was cool to be able to observe the whole egg hatching process so closely. But what I originally thought would be fascinating quickly turned into  a chore. In two words, I'll say "bird poop" and you can figure out the rest.


So, imagine my surprise when I found, just this year, a bird hanging out in my outdoor dryer vent. Really? C'mon Mr/Mrs. Bird. That could not have looked like a good place to be. Nevertheless, I called my dad to "rescue" my dryer vent from the bird drama before there was an opportunity for those "two words" to be streaming down the side of my house...again.


I found myself all clear with the birds until last week. Here is what I saw...