03-19-2016, 02:27 PM
Twitterpated, the lot of them. Every, last, single, one!
Mrs. Bluejay had had enough. They stalked every tree, they paired beneath them, alongside them, in front of them, everywhere. Her little heart could no longer take such action, could no longer be subject to such private things that should be kept in the nest. Things men and ladies should take care of alone and not for the world to see.
It will be to no surprise to you all that, Autumn, is Mrs. Bluejay’s least favorite season. Sure the air is cool, crisp and clean. The trees are beautiful with sunset colors painting their leaves. But it brought one thing she could not stand for, one thing she could not take, mating. Right in front of her eyes! Right In front of the children!
No, not anymore, she had to move.
It is with little regret that she packed up her last nest and took off without a backwards glance. It is with great relief and joy that she finds an empty tree, right here in the middle of the Meadow.
It was perfect (or so she thought)
Within the week some saucy so-and-so is sidling up to her house. Creeping much too closely to the perfectly placed boughs, ogling the bark far longer than necessary (or appropriate mind you), TOUCHING the delicate embrace of branches.
Then, to make matters worse, the tree was- was it touching the horse back?!
“No, excuse me!” She chirps, shrill and insistent. “That’s not how this works, that’s not how any of this works.” Not another one, not another tree gone. She was just making herself comfortable too! No, she had to end this before it went too far.
@[A Tree]
Mrs. Bluejay had had enough. They stalked every tree, they paired beneath them, alongside them, in front of them, everywhere. Her little heart could no longer take such action, could no longer be subject to such private things that should be kept in the nest. Things men and ladies should take care of alone and not for the world to see.
It will be to no surprise to you all that, Autumn, is Mrs. Bluejay’s least favorite season. Sure the air is cool, crisp and clean. The trees are beautiful with sunset colors painting their leaves. But it brought one thing she could not stand for, one thing she could not take, mating. Right in front of her eyes! Right In front of the children!
No, not anymore, she had to move.
It is with little regret that she packed up her last nest and took off without a backwards glance. It is with great relief and joy that she finds an empty tree, right here in the middle of the Meadow.
It was perfect (or so she thought)
Within the week some saucy so-and-so is sidling up to her house. Creeping much too closely to the perfectly placed boughs, ogling the bark far longer than necessary (or appropriate mind you), TOUCHING the delicate embrace of branches.
Then, to make matters worse, the tree was- was it touching the horse back?!
“No, excuse me!” She chirps, shrill and insistent. “That’s not how this works, that’s not how any of this works.” Not another one, not another tree gone. She was just making herself comfortable too! No, she had to end this before it went too far.
@[A Tree]