It's almost inconceivable that there was some debate about whether we had really heard the angels singing it wasn't that there wasn't birdsong on the breeze the embarrassment of dew on the wings of two juvenile cardinals perhaps only just nudged from their nest and fanning as much to learn to fly as to shake off the lethargy of making that uncertain transit from the comfortable shelter of their eggs to open mouthed hatchlings you see these little ones were the most unlikely daredevils dancing without a net upon the wire while the birds fluttered and hovered like jump jets over the deck of an aircraft carrier itself unsteady on the waves I was thinking about the ubiquitousness of bread certain that the last supper was also the first eucharist and it's not a stretch to imagine more than the cardinals doing what they do in memory of some forgotten flight that turned feathers inexplicably from russet to red just because red was...