Martha considers the birds her children. For each new sighting, each “x” she marks in her bird book, she’s gained another. The nursing home is a lonely place.
She calls the kingfisher “Rodney,” though she’s yet to meet him.
“My son won’t visit me,” She says to the nurse and offers the bird book. “Have you seen his picture?”
“I’m here, Mom.”
Rodney stands from his usual chair and plants a kiss on her head.