A little bit before we moved,
I had just cleaned our sliding glass door so it was bright and shiny...a state that never lasted long with 40 sticky little fingers around...
Suddenly we heard a *thunk* and I noticed a spot on the door with feathers stuck to it.
I concluded that a bird had flown into the door due to its especially reflective exterior and felt a little bit bad.
But then, a little while later, Talmage came in and said the bird had died and he found it on the grass.
We all went out and gathered around the poor, beautiful thing, perfect in its stillness.
I found a shoebox and wrapped the bird in tissue paper before laying it to rest in the midst of dried flowers (in the trash, because I didn't think the owners would appreciate a bird grave in their yard...)
The boys all admired and mourned over the bird and Talmage gave it the name "Cliffglider."
I hope you're living up to your name now.