The Bluebird Man

I appreciate people who contribute beauty to the world, whether it's through:
a perfectly cooked meal,
a warm, ripe tomato,
a lily bursting with color,
a perfectly, cured, green bale of hay,
a well-trained dog,
an athletic horse,
a poem,
a photo,
a bluebird.

Last night I called the man whose name was inside the bluebird box.

He's built hundreds of bluebird boxes over the past decade. Using wood donated from a local cabinet shop and then from shipping crates, he's designed a box meant to discourage sparrows and raccoons.

His boxes are mounted on utility poles and posts in a 60-square mile area of his home in town. Riding a moped, he tours the countryside checking on the bluebird boxes throughout the spring and summer.

Our farm was selected because it has pastures and fence rows -- both places where the bluebirds can find food.

While I was delighted to have a bluebird box, not everyone treasures them. He said people have smashed them, shot them and stolen them over the years.

But others have appreciated them, and the bluebirds have made their homes in them. So, he keeps building and installing boxes around the countryside.