The ivy is eating up the mortar. Does it seem to you, too, that
hummingbirds belong to flowers? I wonder what their nests look like–
where they build them and how. I’d prefer you didn’t tell me, though, if you
know the answer – it’s much nicer to think of them as being spun sugar
versions of our tiny house, covered in shining spindles of clinging ivy and
filled with little eggs like Easter. The whole place floated as helium.