NEWS FROM THE FRONT

Meanwhile, the wrens who nest in the wooden pole that holds up the clothesline are feeding their hatchlings.

All day long, they come and go, poke bugs into the dark hole where the babies eat, and grow.

The dog barks on the porch. A great-crested flycatcher rests for a minute on a blooming branch

of dogwood. I sit on an overturned flowerpot in the garage, watching through a dirty window. A chipmunk

squeals and runs away. A breeze flashes through the grass. A red-eyed vireo sings on and on.