Murder in the fifth degree

I told Jim this morning I had a lot to do today.

"You always have a lot to do," he said. I don't know if it was a general observation or a complaint, but my reply was, "I'm never bored."

Between writing and outside chores, I do keep busy. Of course, I save time to read. Once the dinner dishes are done, I head for my chair and book, either an e-book on my iPad or a "real" book from the library.

We have done a lot as far as clearing the encroaching forest around the edge of the back yard. I feel like a pioneer, clearing land for planting! In  fact, I did plant some astilbe around a stump out back. This wasn't easy as I kept running into roots, but it does look better than the bare stump. I think I am channeling my mom, who was an avid gardener.

Then we decided to trim back the quince bush by the deck. Over the years, it has just about taken over.

I stopped pruning when I spied a nest with several eggs in it. "That project will be put on hold until they hatch and fly away," I said.

Mama Thrush didn't much like it that half her shelter had gone, leaving her exposed. But she did go back to the nest. We tiptoed around it, trying not to disturb her.

Then last night I was sitting on the deck when I heard a commotion. The quince bush was shaking as if in a storm. I ran to the railing in time to see Mama Thrush fly past and the neighbor's black-and-white cat jump out of the bush. I threw something at him and screamed at him to go home! He did, limping.

I felt no pity for whatever injury he'd sustained.

Alas, it was the last straw. I haven't seen Mama Thrush on the nest since. In fact, I haven't seen her or her mate at all today.

A minor tragedy in the face of things, but I felt I had caused it by taking away her shelter.

So today I am feeling sad and guilty.

I need to go lose myself in a book.