This is the season of peace and goodwill, but our deck did not reflect that. I flicked open the curtains and saw a dove in a pool of blood. We think it hit the house while we were walking. Other birds kept eating, not mourning for the dove at all. John removed the body, burying it before dog Sadie could get it. I swabbed the deck with a watering can, floating the blood over the edge by pouring water behind it. The wind will eventually remove the few scattered feathers.

A squirrel knocked over a flower pot in his attempt to get to the feeder. He sat there, calmly chewing, as if nothing were amiss. His body language said, “You can’t prove I made this mess, but I’ll help you clean it up.”