Shadow Self

He sat there, grooming, for several minutes, as if he were looking in a mirror hanging on the fence. Constant motion: fluffing, preening, picking, smoothing, repeat. 

I uncovered some more irises and daffodils in the bed along the side fence. It's so pleasant to be out in the warm sun, scratching in the dirt. It smells good, even though I'll pay for that later when I start sneezing. One of the resident hummingbirds was very curious about me, and hovered a few feet above, clicking.