Birds, the Sequel

Just so we're all on the same page, you will need to spend a few minutes reviewing this post.  I'll wait ................................................................................. . . . . . . . . . . . .   .   .   .   .   .   .     .      .     .     .    Done?  Alrighty then.

After sailing through April un-accosted, I thought this must not be a year for birds.  Is there such a thing?  Just like those occasional years of fewer hurricanes in the mid-west, or when the price of gas inexplicably drops below $4 a gallon.  Sometimes it's best to just enjoy those tender mercies without always looking for the cause.

Last year, a suspicion of my paranoia was hovering around in the thoughts of a few of my readers; therefore, I was determined to gather absolute proof that:

Birds do not like me.  

They're watching.  ( You can click on any picture to enlarge.)

Thanks to Husband Dear, and his complex and over-priced camera, we got a lot of shots of me running ........ and ....  keep looking .... it's there .....

Black on black.  Kinda creepy.

Zooming out.  (The camera, not the bird.)  Do you see it?

Oh yeah.  This feathered piece of work, is SO guilty!

More evidence:  

The hood of my car, AKA the Bird Latrine.

That long stringy thing is a rubber snake.  Its intended purpose is to scare the birds and stop the nest-building.  Last year they built their nest on top of it.

I could add a photo of the poop-spattered street in front of my house, but I think you get the point.

So there you have it.  The Evidence.

I rest my case.