When I was a little girl, I was pretty good at entertaining myself. I made up all kinds of pretend worlds and games that I quietly indulged in alone. I could lie in bed for hours and day dream the night away, or sit contently in the car as long as there was a window to look through and a radio. One game I remember playing, was bird watching. Birds are beautiful and amazing little creatures. I didn’t bird watch with binoculars and a whistle, holding a bird species identification book and cataloguing my findings, I watched them and made up stories about them. Birds didn’t simply land in a tree for a moment and then take off never to be seen again. Each one had a life, a purpose, and family. They were on their way to or from a magical place or secret hideout. They were looking for their friends, who weren’t just birds. Friends included bunnies, squirrels, even bugs. Sometimes they got lost. Sometimes they played in the rain. Sometimes they showed off just because they knew I was watch