Spring Cleaning

It's something the sparrows do. 

They go into that birdhouse Paul built and pull out all the stuff from last year's nest. It sits for awhile on the deck railing, in front of their house, then is blown off or pushed off by the birds. I never see which. 

Just this week, the sparrows have completed the cleaning. Now one of them--pretty sure it's the woman of the house--sits on the railing, and I don't know why. Waiting for what? Perhaps her husband is off gathering materials for a new nest.

I can watch them from my bedroom window. I have not sat there long enough to see more than I have reported here. But I need to. I will.

When I was young I thought people who watched birds were . . .  old, maybe, or stupid, should "get a life." Now I'm fascinated by what these birds and the finches do. Of course, I'm also old.