On golden pond...

The Boys...

ea...gulls...

storm clouds...

Old hands...

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

         I once told someone "I feel like I was born 40 years too late"...   You see... old things absolutely intrigue me...
        Looking at this old birdhouse,  I instantly feel like I have something in common with the builder.   I see a hard worker... a man with a love for nature...  a man with patience...   a man that would rather build something than buy it...  a man that had an eye for detail...  a man with strong calloused hands... a man that was kind...  a man that built something to last a long time... a man that was honest... a man with passion... a man that worked a lot of hours... a man that never slept in late... a man that probably loved chickens...  loved his job...  loved his children...  and maybe a beer or two... (or three) 
       Questions enter my mind...       I wonder what his name was...   what tools he used...  where he lived...  where he worked...  if he had a wood shop or old barn he worked in...  I wonder how many hundreds of birds were born in this birdhouse... 
        I know I'll never meet the builder of this birdhouse here on earth...  but I do believe that I can look forward to shaking his hand someday in heaven...