It begins to feel as though Potato planting time is near. Bluebirds are lisping at each other in that chess playing way and Boy Cardinals have the crazy eyes. Oh sure they have the red of a Cardinal's robe, but no one in their right mind could look into the face of a Boy Cardinal and say "Let's call them Cardinals."
It's not so much the Cardinal's fault that it's called a Cardinal, it's the
nature of the mind that chose to call it a Cardinal. The other thing about the
decline of January into the hell of February, we Pink Flamingoes begin to doubt
the validity of our calling as our levels of tolerance deteriorate. On a
brighter side our hero is about to meet Saint Winifred.