I had been observing a little oriole in my favorite redbud tree next to the driveway all week. After parking my freshly cleaned car in the driveway, I caught him in the act. He hopped and bounced between the side-view mirror and the window, back and forth, looking into the mirror. He flew from one side-view mirror to the other.

So I parked my car away from the tree, closer to the street. As soon as I walked up the driveway, there he was, back on the side-view mirror, hypnotized by this shiny area, obsessively looking at his reflection.

Determined to keep my car clean, I put a tarp over the front of the car. It left it there while I was out of town. When I came home the next day, there he was, anxiously hanging out with his reflection. It’s like he is a magnet, powerless next to this massive piece of steel. He's probably out there pooping on it right now as I type.

Little oriole, what is that reflection to you? Is it another bird, a friend, a mate? Are you lonely, little dude? Do you hop around manically because the reflection makes you happy or wildly confused? All I know is that you love that reflection and you are compelled to be near it constantly, so you have my blessing, and I will live with your poop.