SO HERE I AM AGED TWENTY SEVEN AND I FANCY MYSELF A BIRDWATCHER. SO, LIKE I SAID I'M TWENTY SEVEN AND I HAVE SAVED UP ENOUGH TO GET MYSELF A HOUSE. I HAVE MADE OR BOUGHT PLENTY OF HOUSES FOR THE BIRDS. IT'S A HOBBY THAT GOT OUT OF CONTROL OVER TIME. I MEAN I LIVED IN AN APARTMENT, ON THE THIRD FLOOR, YOU CAN ONLY PUT SO MANY ON THOSE TINY BALCONIES, RIGHT. SO THEN THEY WERE "DISPLAY " PIECES AROUND THE APARTMENT.
SO I BOUGHT A HOUSE WITHT THE MONEY I HAD BEEN SAVING, WELL I PAID FOR PART OF IT, AND THE BANK IS LETTING ME PAY THEM BACK OVER THIRTY YEARS, SWELL BUNCH OF PEOPLE.
SO I BOUGHT THE HOUSE, NOT SO MUCH BECAUSE OF HOW IT LOOKED OR HOW WELL MAINTAINED IT WAS, I BOUGHT IT BECAUSE IT SETS UP IN FRONT OF AN ABSOLUTELY STUNNING SET OF WOODS. YOU CAN SEE THE WOODS LEAKING ANIMALS, AND A FAIR AMOUNT OF THEM ARE BIRDS.
SO I GET ALL OF MY BIRDHOUSES SET UP IN THE BACK YARD, I GET THE BIRDFEEDERS, AND A COUPLE BIRDBATHS SET UP AROUND MY NEW TO ME HOME. OH, IT LOOKED WONDERFUL, I COULD SIT IN MY KITCHEN AND WATCH THE BIRDS THROUGH MY BINOCULARS.
I COULD SIT OUTSIDE UNDER A TREE THAT LOOKED LIKE IT HAD ESCAPED FROM THE FOREST, YOU KNOW IT PRETENDING TO JUST BE OUT FOR A WALK OR SOMETHING. OR MAYBE IT WAS SENT AS A SCOUT FOR THE REST OF THE FOREST. I HATE TO THINK THAT IT WAS JUST THE REMAINING TREE THAT KEPT FROM BEING CUT AWAY TO MAKE ROOM FOR THE HOUSE. MAKES ME SAD TO THINK OF IT THAT WAY. I WOULD REALLY JUST RATHER CONSIDER IT A WANDERER, OR A SCOUT ON RECON.
THE BIRDS WERE EVERYWHERE AND I KEPT BUYING MORE SEED, AND MAKING CONDOS, AND MANSIONS FOR MY LITTLE AVIAN FRIENDS. I KEEP A JOURNAL OF THE DIFFERENT BIRDS BY SOUND, SIZE, MARKINGS, PERSONALITY QUIRKS, IT IS VERY IN- DEPTH. I AM LOVING HOW I GET TO SPEND MY DAYS WATCHING, LEARNING THE BIRDS AND THEIR WORLDS.
ahem... pardon me, i don't know if this is the right thing to do here or not, but i felt like i should finish this out, seeing as the original author isn't going to be able to finish this story. i should say, i am not related, nor do i really know the guy who started this diary of sorts, this journal thread. he lived within a mile or so of the convenience store i work at. it is the only convenience store for many miles around. we sell gas as well, but of course most of the revenue comes in as beer and candy money.
well, i am not sure how to say this, i have never been good at this kinda thing, i only ran across this, cause of the sale of all of the stuff from his house. i'm sure the fellas from the bank are a bit miffed, but it's not like he just up and left of his own accord.
the simple truth is ... he kept feeding all the birds, the birds would spill some of the feed, other small animals would come in to eat the seeds, and some of the birds if they caught 'em. well with the influx of animals onto the property the larger animals who fed on the smaller animals weren't getting their meals, so they seemed to have a meeting and decided to do something about the guy.
they sent the bear. the bear normally couldn't give two shits, pardon my french, about guys, or even the other animals most of the time, but winter was coming on, and you can only slurp so much honey, and eat so many flowers and such, before you realize that if you are going to sleep for a few months, you might need something more substantial. all of the substantial food was winging and walking to this guys yard, so the bear, the bear he went and was gonna knock all the birdhouses and feeders, and baths over(as far as anyone can ascertain the goings on of a bear.)
so the bear gets there and sees everything going on in the yard, the animals are fairytaling it up, birds, squirrels, you expected them to be singing and sewing and whatnot. it looked ridiculous to the bear, remember he was getting ready for the sleepy time, so pretty grumpy.
well there amongst the goings on was a man. the man had on this great big shit eating , pardon my french, grin on it's face. this must have pissed the bear off mightily. of course as far as i know the man was just happy, he had a thing for birds as you may have gathered. the bear though, he takes it personally.
runs right at the poor guy, raises up and growls an attack.
kills the guy, right there in front of the one thing that brought him happiness.
someone finds what has been left of the guy, no one can find the bear to corraborate the story, but it makes the most sense. they want the property emptied, hire someone local to gather up and sell off all the mans stuff, and that's how i came to be in possession of this couple pages. nice leatherbound journal too. i figured i would cut those pages out, give it to my nephew for his birthday, but something in this story just made me want to finish it for him. probably not how he thought it would end, but there you go- life
