It's dead baby bird season.

It amazes me that doves have managed to survive through the ages. They are so stupid about where they build their nests, at least around here. Last year was the same. I can't walk outside nowadays without seeing a dead baby bird - blown out of the nest by a high wind, or just fallen out due to shoddy craftsmanship, I'm not sure which.

I knew someone, through the unschooling groups, whose son could not even stand the thought of killing a fly - the idea of a dead bird would likely cause him much sorrow. I'm glad my kids are a little harder hearted than he is, or I would have to conduct a very large number of burial services each spring.