We once had birds that fluttered through the air with grace. They didn’t bite or scratch. They definitely set the fields ablaze. Now where there was once birds, there are dragons.
A birdhouse hangs from a tree branch of a lush green tree. The leaves in the background are a soft pallet of greens and out of focus. Rays of sunlight glisten through the leaves. In the opening to the birdhouse sits a baby golden dragon.