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Nobody's home
Nobody's home

Nobody’s home

Just a couple of pieces of wood, with a hole of a particular size, and a roof that flips open, all mounted on a fence post. On a late September day in mid-state New York the birdhouse is in hibernation, along with others planted around the farm, waiting for winter to roll over it and then for spring, when it will welcome a new generation of bluebirds.

© 2007 George J. Bancroft Sr.

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