Taking Aim

The wind knocked that tin can off the bucket before anything else could. I didn't rush out into the open to set it back up. Instead, I stayed low behind the splintered timber, resting my forearms across the top crate. Through the narrow gap between the boards, I tracked the yard. A wandering blackbird landed right where the can had rolled, pecked twice at the dirt, and tilted its head at my barricade. I kept my breathing steady and didn't twitch a boot. A good standoff is mostly knowing how to wait without giving away your ground.