Our house is square like a doughnut.

In the center of the house is a courtyard, and that is where I have amassed a collection of feeders in the hopes of attracting birds.

All a tired father of four wants on some days is to sit quietly and watch the finches alight on the branches of the crape myrtle, enjoying a safe place to eat. It’s the same principle behind my parenting; no one wants to see my kids foraging through their backyard for nuts and berries and Cheetos.

When it comes to communing with nature, though, my kids have other designs. They want to flit around and jump up and down, twitching and turning their heads this way and that like nervous mockingbirds.

And, oh, they mock me … (read more)