When I visited my daughter and her boyfriend in their new apartment, I saw a bird sitting on the hood of Lindsey's car.
"Yeah, I know," Lindsey said. Lindsey walked outside and removed all the twigs from the windshield.
Within seconds, the bird was back with more twigs. And again, Lindsey walked outside to remove them. In the midst of moving and rearranging furniture and other items, Lindsey would return to her car occasionally and remove all of the twigs the bird placed there.
After a while, we had to go shopping. Lindsey removed all the twigs – again – and we were on our way.
When we returned, the bird immediately flew onto the car and began building her nest again again. Like the Greek god who was condemned to the eternal task of carrying a large boulder up a hill that repeatedly fell down the hill, the bird I've named Sisyphus seems to be forever condemned to building nests in the hoods of automobiles (she also uses neighbor's cars), where the nests get destroyed again and again by the auto's owners and poor little Sisyphus must rebuild her nest again and again – forever doomed to building nests.
Perhaps we should have placed food for the poor thing in the back yard.
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