They drove home
without speaking, wallowing in privately mutual disappointment.
It had been a
beautiful weekend, filled with hiking and campfires, but they hadn’t seen what
they had hoped to see.
Avid birders,
there had been rumors of one of their bucket-list members being sighted at the
state park a few hours from their town, and they’d immediately made
arrangements to go cross those little fellers off of their lists.
Pulling into
their driveway after dark, they unloaded the car, brushing the shrubbery next
to the garage with their camping gear.
The rare little
birds glared in their nest, unamused.
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