One flew at the other in an apparent territorial rage. I watched with interest as there was a swirl of red wings, the two danced around briefly on the forest floor, and then...wait...one was on top of the other one, doing the little wing beaty thing, and...err...
Not that there's anything wrong with that!
Okay, I could handle the defective squirrels, in all their disturbing variation. I could handle the bald titmouse and the stump-tailed wren, I could handle squirrel sex on the ground feeder and finch sex on the thistle seed feeder and sparrow sex on the ground. I can handle gay cardinals. I know all 'bout them gay animals, and am delighted to know it, being generally one in the eye of all those "It's UNNATURAL!" morons. I'm enlightened. If those cardinals wanna be gay, it's okay by me.
But jeez, I'm starting to feel like I'm in some kind of bizarre urban wildlife version of the Truman Show. I mean, where are all these animals COMING FROM!?