THE RING

Nine years ago, I was cleaning out a bird house at the corner of the yard.  As I pulled out the nest material my ring flew off my finger and into a pile of leaves.

I made mental note of the exact spot where it landed, then put the bird house back together.

When I went to retrieve the ring, I couldn't find it. 
I was not heartbroken - it wasn't especially precious to me. Just a ring that I liked. 


Weeks, months, years passed. Whenever I was in that general area I kicked leaves around, looking for a glimmer of silver and red. 


I wondered if it had rolled down a chipmunk hole, or had been buried deep by hard-working worms. 


Today, I parked the chicken-tractor in that spot so the girls could do some worm-hunting in the cool shade.


Well, I'll be darned.


Pigeon didn't seem interested. 


She had more important business.



The sparkly red gem is missing, 


but I'm not going to hunt for it.