A Tire Swing Story is a bite-sized "imagining" inspired by an object I discover while wandering. It could be a curbside trash gem or a message sprayed on a wall. A lost mitten, or an antique store find. Anything goes. I photograph the object and post them together, the story and its inspiration. There will be a new story every Monday and Wednesday. On Fridays, I'll discuss writing, life, love, and coffee. (In no particular order and maybe all at once.)

Monday, March 28, 2011

The birds are trying to take back the birdhouse. I can hear them out there, plotting. But a chipmunk's got a right. I made a sign that told them:

“a ChipMuk’s gota Rite”
But those birdbrains can't read, so I took it down. 

Forget my days of burrowing. It's warm and dry in here. I've stuffed my cheek pouches full of birdseed and there's still plenty more to eat. It's the perfect home for a rodent like me. And it really messes my stripes that birds everywhere get palaces like this. You don't ever hear of "chipmunk houses." It's a travesty. 

So I did something.

There are two old ladies who live in the house below, with hair that looks like soft white cotton, and sweaters with beads and glitter attached to them. They like to come and sit on the front porch and admire their garden. Sometimes they take photographs of the flowers.

One day, I approached the porch slowly, and the one on the left noticed me first.

"Oh! A cute little Chippie," she said, "just look at that little Chippie. Quick, Della, let's fetch him a nut."

When those old ladies disappeared inside the house, I stole their camera.

Now I can keep an eye on those birds through the lens. I zoom in for a closer look. They're everywhere: pigeons perched on the telephone wires, finches gathering on the lawn. That big robin, he's the ringleader. And those sparrows are following everything he does. Pushovers. It won't be long before the attack.

It starts with a woodpecker. He lands on my roof and drills against the tin. Rattattattattattat. The noise is nearly deafening. Then come the sparrows and chickadees, swooping and diving in front of the lens.

But they don't know I've got a secret weapon. When the moment is right, I press the button. The flash. Startled, the birds fly away. 

They'll be back and I'll be ready. This is my house now.

1 comment:

  1. Oh my gosh. This one still has me giggling!! What an inventive little chipmunk. I love him.

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