Mud Patrol Retreat

Splashes of garden mud were drying stiff on my front! Night was falling fast across the lawn, and soggy feathers definitely needed warmth. I marched straight away from the hydrangea puddle, trotting up the flagstone path toward base camp. I squeezed right through the dusty wooden legs under the bench! My crunchy oak leaf nest was waiting, deep and dry. I kicked with both webbed feet, scraping up a thick leafy blanket to rub the dry dirt off my chest. Right in front sat my trusty blue peg anchor and the twig flagpole, standing proud in the gloom. I curled my toes under, leaned back, and breathed out a huge puff of air!